


The Beautiful Liberation

by LaEmperatrizMariana



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alcohol, Confusing Antagonist, Expletive Language, Eye Trauma, Gen, Mech preg mention, Past Child Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Time Travelling Mischief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-23 12:51:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 33
Words: 49,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402775
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaEmperatrizMariana/pseuds/LaEmperatrizMariana
Summary: Brainstorm and Perceptor had teamed up to develop holomatter technology in hopes of returning autonomy to Perceptor's comatose older brother. They then continue their teamwork to further innovate this extremely useful invention. Tailgate is hired as a custodian at the medibay, to keep him busy during the day. There, he befriends a couple of patients and enjoys his calm, slow-paced job. Meanwhile, Ratchet is trying to speak to Pharma, his former student, who is hiding a terrible secret from him and the rest of the crew;





	1. Orientation and Familiarity

**Author's Note:**

> **Not beta-read.**  
>   
> 
>  
> 
> Takes place after "Dreams are Made of Biscuits" but had I tried my best to keep this story as self-contained as possible. Unfortunately, that didn't work out as I hoped because that plot was like way too complex and needed to be explored further. It also takes place like months after "The Sovereigns of the Republic", but it's completely unrelated. 
> 
> And yes, nothing terrible happens to Tailgate. Can't say the same for other characters...
> 
>  **(9 AUGUST, 2018) EDIT** : Originally, this story was rated T, however due to the dark elements of the narrative and the fact that certain dialogue could only be conveyed with inappropriate language, the rating has been increased. I wish it was rated T, but characters were dropping the F-bomb isn't suitable to be in a rated T story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Although it's technically Tailgate's first day on the job, Perceptor and Brainstorm get the spotlight.

    Tailgate had made his way to the medibay, excited and nervous for his orientation. Cyclonus had spoken to Ratchet earlier, asking him if he was interested in hiring someone to help with maintenance, since he had overheard Ratchet talking about it at Swerve’s. However, neither Tailgate nor Ratchet were aware that Cyclonus was simply peeved because Tailgate kept organizing stuff in their room and wanted him to organize elsewhere.

    As Ratchet showed him around, Tailgate said, “There’s so many beds.”

    “Of course,” said Ratchet, “this ship was meant to hold up to 350 people. However, our crew is small, and that’s okay. It's why we need someone for the custodial tasks, to make sure everything is clean. Even with disuse, the sheets on the beds still get dirty with dust. That way, the rest of the medical staff can dedicate ourselves to research and providing care for our patients.”

    Tailgate heard some faint beeping and asked, “What’s that noise?”

    “Those are the patients interned here,” replied Ratchet, stopping in front of a room which had a caution sign in front of it. “They’re all in a coma for different reasons. One suffered a spinal injury and the other…psychological damage.”

    Tailgate was too short to look at them through the window. But he wasn’t curious-enough to see them either, so he continued with his tour alongside Ratchet.

    Meanwhile, Perceptor were finishing their final touches on an experimental device they were building together. They turned to the patient closest to them, another microscope bot. He was a slender mech who was very light cyan, almost white, with teal accents and his mouth looked very similar to Perceptor’s mouth.

    Perceptor then looked at Brainstorm and asked, “Can you press on the call bell? We need the medics here.”

    Brainstorm moved quickly and pressed the button. “Don’t worry Perceptor, Quark will be fine.”

    Perceptor chuckled. “That’s easy for you to say, he’s not your family.” Perceptor handed the device to Brainstorm, to hold Quark’s hand. He then got close to Quark and whispered something.

    Brainstorm’s sonic hearing picked up his words clearly. Perceptor said, “I’m nervous. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. You are everything to me, not just my big brother.”

    Crossing his arms, Brainstorm remained silent. Quark was his mentor who nurtured his love of science, because of this, Brainstorm grew to love Quark deeply too. This is why he was just as invested in their experiment as Perceptor.

    Within moments, Ratchet, Ambulon, First Aid entered the room. Ratchet asked Perceptor, “Is it alright if Tailgate could observe?”

    “Sure,” said Perceptor.

    Tailgate entered the room and took a seat on a random chair away from Quark’s bed. He looked to his left and saw the other patient there. It was the medi-jet surgeon from Delphi. Like Quark, he was intubated and connected to the machines that read his vital signs and administered medicine. Tailgate looked at his right wrist, which had his ID. The patient’s name was Pharma.

    Tailgate was so distracted, that he failed to notice Quark and Brainstorm hooking up Quark to their experimental device, as the medics monitored Quark’s condition. The installation of the external hardware was a success, now it needed to be activated.

    They had agreed that Brainstorm would be the one to explain to Quark how the device worked because he spoke succinctly, compared to Perceptor. (Ratchet explained to Tailgate that although Quark was comatose, the brain scans revealed he was receptive to sound and reacted accordingly. Quark could hear and possibly sense everything around him but due to his injuries, he was unable to move and was trapped inside his own body.)

    Tailgate listened and tried to make sense of what Brainstorm was saying. Brainstorm explained that the device generated solid avatars which were controlled by the user’s mind. He and Perceptor hoped that with this, they’d help give Quark some autonomy. Perceptor, speaking on his brother’s behalf, knew without a doubt that Quark would not object to this experiment.

    When it seemed that Quark understood what Brainstorm had explained, they watched silently to see if Quark was able to activate the device. There was a tense moment of silence, before a human appeared standing on top of Quark’s chest. The human was a lithe man with a bluish tinge to his skin. He bore a strong resemblance to Quark given his glasses and attire. The man looked at his arms and then looked up at Brainstorm and Perceptor before muttering, “What the hell did you do to me?”

    Perceptor tried his best to remain calm, but overfilled with emotion, he burst into tears. “Quark…”

    Quark looked at Perceptor, raising an eyebrow. While he understood Perceptor cried tears of joy, Quark was confused as to why his form was organic in appearance and not mechanical. The avatar moved out of the way, so his younger brother could hug him. After getting over his initial shock, the avatar moved closer to Perceptor and petted his head.

    Brainstorm wanted to speak, because he was excited too but he waited for Perceptor to calm down. At that, Ratchet signaled the other medics and Tailgate to leave the room for the sake of privacy.

    Tailgate looked at First Aid and said to him, “That was so sweet. Will they be doing that to the other patient too?”

    “I don’t know,” replied First Aid, still wary of Pharma's condition.

    Meanwhile, Brainstorm said to Quark, “Oh the reason you’re a human, a creature from the planet Earth, is because of the war the Autobots have many allies there. We’re still trying to figure out how each user could customize their avatar’s appearance. We tried to make yours look as close to you as possible.”

    As Brainstorm spoke, Perceptor was installing another experimental device onto himself. When he finished, he transformed into a large microscope with treads and projected his own avatar to stand next to Quark. He looked similar to Quark, except he wore an argyle vest, similar to his color scheme, and had a red rug rolled into a cylinder which sat on his right shoulder.

    Quark looked at him and said, “This is still very strange, but at least I can look at you without having to move my neck, which hurts in this form.” He then gave Perceptor a tight hug and then they both began to catch up on their personal conversations. Perceptor had a lot to say, more so than usual.

    As they spoke, Brainstorm activated his own avatar and appeared next to the brothers. While Perceptor was a bit peeved, Quark was happy to see him. Brainstorm had large ears that curled back, similar to an American Curl cat, and a pair of large bat wings. He wore a baby blue trench-coat and had a yellow scarf obscuring his face.

    Seeing his avatar, Quark said to them, “Not fair, why does he get those wings?"

    "How would you know I can fly without my wings?" replied Brainstorm. "We're still working on wings and specialty ears, like these. Percy and I have been thinking about making these avatars, creatures other than humans. We originally tried with scaled-down Cybertronians but the projections had difficulty animating our complex transformations, so we cut that early on."

    "I'm very interested to know _how_ this device works," said Quark.

    "We'll be more than happy to share the codes with you," said Brainstorm, as he saw Perceptor's avatar disappear and his microscope form rolling out of the room in a hurry.

    "Where is he going?" asked Quark, who suddenly got very nervous.

    "Wait," said Brainstorm with a cheerful grin.

    Perceptor returned, towing a wagon with a large object roughly about the size of an average mech that was covered by a blanket. Brainstorm's avatar disappeared too, as Brainstorm moved to unveil the object. It was a simple model house that Perceptor had been building on the side. (Microscopes had an affinity with miniatures and Perceptor was no exception.) It was intended to be a safe place for Quark to project himself, so he wouldn't feel confined to the hospital bed. Although it was Perceptor's project, others collaborated too. Brainstorm, Grapple, and Hoist had helped build it. Then Atomizer was consulted to design the interior.

    Brainstorm helped Perceptor situate the house, which was roughly the size of a human efficiency apartment, in a corner out of the way. Perceptor then projected his avatar inside the house as he waited for Brainstorm to carry Quark's avatar to it. Perceptor was taken aback when he saw the interior, it was impressive at a human size. They waited for Brainstorm to join them and then proceeded to give Quark a tour around the house.

    At the nurse's station, First Aid was keeping an eye on the patients' vitals. All of Quark's vitals were elevated, but it was from the strong emotions he felt about finally being able to walk around and speak for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case it wasn't straightforward (not sure), Quark suffered the spinal injury* and Pharma has psychological trauma**.
> 
> * Before the war started, Quark worked at the New Institute along with Perceptor and Brainstorm, whom he both mentored. They were researchers developing various inventions. On one fateful day, Quark had gone to check on a generator which exploded and sent him flying against a wall which caused his spinal injury. He had been fortunate to arrive delayed by a couple of seconds, otherwise he would've been flung towards a shelf which would've decapitated him. 
> 
> ** At Delphi, it was discovered that Pharma was making illicit drugs from a combination of herbology and alchemy, to supposedly give to the DJD's leader Tarn, in exchange for the DJD to not harm those in the medical facility and to provide them with much needed supplies since Delphi had become defunct due to defunding. Because of the nature of his crimes, Pharma faced a steep fine and a temporary suspension of his license. However, Pharma's reaction when caught was extreme, as if he had done something terrible, like illegally euthanizing dozens of patients to harvest their organs. Initially, it was suspected it was due to a nutritional deficiency but that never explained the look of sheer terror he had in his eyes. Basically, Pharma is so upset, he won't come online and has almost died multiple times as a result. As of this chapter, he is less stable than Quark.


	2. Forgetting one's roots

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tailgate and Cyclonus start dinner, and Perceptor and Brainstorm later join them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Cyclonus is eating carrots because he's a rabbit.

    Excited that his first day went well, Tailgate returned to his hab-suite. Cyclonus was there waiting for him. As much as he hated to admit, he started to miss Tailgate. The silence of the hab-suite was unnerving to him.

    “It’s time for dinner, let’s go,” said Cyclonus, who picked up Tailgate and walked with him to the kitchen.

    Tailgate wanted to tell Cyclonus how his day went, but then he remembered he signed a form agreeing he was to respect the patients’ privacy. The kitchen was very large, since it was meant for a large crew. But since few mechs boarded the Lost Light and there were no cooks, Rodimus said that it was to be treated as a communal kitchen. Everyone could use it to prepare their own meals.

    Cyclonus got a stool for Tailgate, who was helping him cut some vegetables. Cyclonus wanted a traditional Tetrahexian carrot stew. He was disappointed he couldn’t find any authentic vegetables, so he was forced to use substitutes. (To him, the most important was the carrot. The Tetrahexian carrot tasted nothing like the common grocery store carrot.) Nevertheless, Cyclonus was impressed by how perfectly Tailgate julienned the carrots and other vegetables. They put all the vegetables in the water-filled pot and waited for it to simmer.

    While they waited, Tailgate asked Cyclonus, “Are you still going to be able to teach me Primal Vernacular?”

    Cyclonus ignored him. Tailgate asked again, this time in Primal Vernacular.

    “Of course,” replied Cyclonus, in Primal Vernacular, “I have nothing else to do.” He resumed the lesson while still keeping an eye on the stew.

    Meanwhile, Quark was still talking to Perceptor and Brainstorm, both of whom unanimously decided to take the rest of the day off. Exhausted, Quark no longer projected his avatar. Instead, only spoke through the device’s speakers.

    Brainstorm said, “Quark, I need to get you one of those minibot-sized tablets. That way you could text or video-conference us with your avatar.”

    “That’s reasonable,” replied Quark, “Is it possible to make me a phone I can operate remotely, like this projector? I’m concerned about the possible risk of prolonged use of the avatar. Anyway, before I forget I’d like to know how Old Mags is doing.”

    “Ultra Magnus is doing good,” said Perceptor.

    “No, not him,” said Quark, “I meant my beloved friend and colleague, Magnificus. I’ve not heard anything about him lately. I hope he’s alright.”

    Brainstorm and Perceptor looked at each other sadly, thinking about how to tell him the truth. Perceptor took a deep breath and said, “He has become a Decepticon, so we wouldn’t know what he’s up to nowadays.”

    “Why would he become a Decepticon?” asked Quark, “that makes no sense! Decepticons have no use for us microscopes. They’d kill us all if they could; throw us in furnaces to melt us for scrap metal!” Quark couldn’t help but feel offended and disappointed. He thought his mentees were lying to him to ‘protect’ him from his friend’s untimely demise.

    “He was falsely accused and imprisoned,” replied Brainstorm, suddenly. His voice becoming slightly deeper. “He was suspected of tampering with that generator which caused it to explode, nearly killing you. The prosecution claimed he was driven to homicide due to jealousy.”

    “What the…?” asked Quark, “That’s absurd! Sure Mags may’ve been my rival, but we were friendly rivals and we often helped each other out; kind of like how you and Percy are. He would never, ever do that to me. Mags is a sweet harmless nerd, he would never hurt anyone.”

    “Exactly!” cried Brainstorm, “If I recall, he wasn’t even there that day. He had called sick because he had the runs, I think.”

    “Of course,” said Quark, “But that’s what he got for eating that weird food. He didn’t even examine it with his scope, like a proper microscope, before stuffing his face.”

    “They didn’t let any of us testify,” said Perceptor. “I admit, I was unable to. I was distraught.”

    “Percy, I don’t blame you,” said Quark, “you’ve suffered enough seeing family get torn to pieces. Let me tell you something. I think I know who was responsible. I can’t remember his name, but it started with a ‘T’, I think. He was an ambitious bastard who worked with us at the New Institute. He wanted to be the best and didn’t like it when others surpassed him, even if they weren’t in the same field as him.”

    Perceptor continued to tell his brother what happened to Magnificus. After the trial, he was sent to a prison in Kaon, notorious for using inmates as gladiators. There, Magnificus met up with the Decepticon leaders, Megatron and Soundwave. Together, along with other inmates, they revolted and escaped the prison. The ordeal had radically changed Magnificus. Perceptor paused.

    It was painful for him to admit, but after his own near-death experience, he practically abandoned science. During that phase, he was working with the Wreckers. In one such instance, Perceptor was in a battle near the Sonic Canyons. There, he came face-to-face with Magnificus, who somehow managed to hide from sight just enough to attack Perceptor directly. It was at that moment that Perceptor realized that despite his multiple upgrades, he was no match for the former gladiator. In fact, Magnificus was about to strike a fatal blow when he realized he was fighting Perceptor and sheathed his weapon. At the same time, Perceptor recognized him too and was too shocked to speak or even move.

    After he was orphaned and adopted by Quark, Perceptor had grown up around Magnificus, who was like an uncle to him. Magnificus was extremely passionate about science and had always encouraged Perceptor from a young age. Seeing this bright scholar turn into a battle-hardened warrior who only wanted to kill, upset Perceptor more than he could handle. He saw himself in Magnificus and feared he would soon follow in his footsteps, abandoning everything he loved and embracing his strong feelings of vengeance. To Perceptor, Magnificus had become a monster and that hurt him more than the blows they had exchanged earlier. It was from this moment, that Perceptor was starting to have doubts about becoming a warrior.

    Thinking fast, Magnificus decided to take Perceptor with him; perhaps thinking he was rescuing his friend’s younger brother. He still loved him, otherwise he would’ve killed him without remorse. However, Drift came to the rescue and managed to drive Magnificus away. Drift feared the worst since Perceptor was unable to speak, which only happened to him when he was under immense stress. Perceptor had never told anyone about his encounter with Magnificus before.

    Quark suddenly disconnected from the speaker. The news hurt him and he began to weep. Brainstorm reached over and wiped away his tears. Thinking that they needed some space for the evening, Brainstorm bid Quark goodnight and left with Perceptor. Brainstorm decided to take him to the kitchen, thinking that perhaps having a nice light dinner would help him relax. Perceptor refused, but Brainstorm kept bugging him that he eventually agreed.

    There, they caught up with Tailgate and Cyclonus who had just finished serving themselves their stew. Excited to see them again, Tailgate offered them stew. They served themselves and took a seat next to them. Perceptor started looking at the stew with his scope. Cyclonus stared at Perceptor, thinking the habit was strange. After seeing that it was delicious, Perceptor began to eat.

    Brainstorm said, “This broth is so good.” He then got a vegetable piece with his spoon and ate it. Brainstorm was about to comment that the stew would’ve tasted better if it had some meat in it, but then he remembered that both Cyclonus and Tailgate were generally herbivorous.

    Perceptor frowned, “This would’ve been perfect with Tetrahexian carrots. They have such a strong, rich flavor that a serving half this size would’ve been filling. I had some once, it was one of the best things I’ve ever eaten. But I know that particular carrot is a difficult ingredient to store.”

    Cyclonus shot a discreet glance at Tailgate, hoping Tailgate would understand the importance of the authentic ingredients. Tailgate didn’t care, he enjoyed his dinner and it was much better than the rations he was used to getting, prior to his own off-lining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IDK why, but I felt like writing angst??? I also don't like Magnificus being a clone, so I had to put both of these concepts together.
> 
> Also, the "T" that Quark mentions is Trepan. However, Quark disliked Trepan for basically having bad/creepy vibes. (Microscopes are naturally very observant. It is possible that Quark may have sensed that Trepan had questionable motives in regards to his field, mnemosurgery.) The accusation that Trepan may have tried to kill Quark is as ridiculous as Magnificus trying to kill him. Trepan was ambitious, but he didn't care about messing with harmless microscopes. Besides, he wasn't there that day either.


	3. Watch your language.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet and Ambulon unanimously agree that Tailgate should teach First Aid some basic Primal Vernacular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to [Pitbull's "Hotel Room Service"](https://youtu.be/EFH9soeufXY) on repeat while working on this chapter. IDK if that would help shed some light into what I was thinking as I typed. But even so, I _still_ don’t know what I’m doing.

    Tailgate had arrived the next day with a plan in hand. Since there were too many beds, Cyclonus had suggested he divide the beds into sections, then do a different section each day. Tailgate worked to remove the old sheets and re-make the beds. Then, he took the dirty linens to a washroom across the hallway. After he finished with the laundry, he folded everything up and put them away. Tailgate checked the time and it was barely 11:00 am, and he had completed most of the tasks he had planned to do that day. He decided to take a break and pulled out a juice box from his subspace. 

    Suddenly, the door chimed and Ratchet entered the medibay. He wasn't scheduled to be working during this shift, but once again he had forgotten about the rest of the medical staff. He was greeted by a medi-droid who chirped happily at his arrival. Ratchet petted it and offered it a little treat. Tailgate was spooked by Ratchet's arrival that he started choking on the juice.

    Ratchet rushed over to his side and smacked his back a couple of times. Tailgate got one of his clean dusting cloths, retracted his face mask and cleaned his mouth.

    “Thanks,” said Tailgate, who adjusted himself and heard his back pop, feeling relief afterwards.

    The medi-droid approached him and took the soiled dusting cloth with its pincer-like paws to discard it in the dirty linens basket.

    “How do you feel?” asked Ratchet.

    Although he was embarrassed about what had happened, Tailgate replied, “I feel better. I finished washing the sheets, for half of the ward. I don't know if I should finish the rest today or go mop. I thought today was your day off.”

    “It was,” smiled Ratchet calmly, to embarrassed to admit that he forgot. “I just wanted to visit you guys.” He looked at the dry-erase board, Ambulon was on duty. “Where is Ambulon?”

    Tailgate looked away nervously. When he had finished changing the first couple of beds, Ambulon had approached him and told him he needed to take a nap because he wasn't feeling too good. He told Tailgate to keep an eye on everything and fell asleep. As far as Tailgate was concerned, Ambulon was still asleep. “I don't know, I was busy cleaning.”

    Meanwhile, Ambulon had woken up to the sound of the door chiming. He rubbed his burning, sore eyes and made the bed. He headed towards the nurses' station and saw Ratchet talking to Tailgate. Ambulon felt like he almost had a stroke. After composing himself, he approached the two and realized that Ratchet was having a random conversation with Tailgate in Primal Vernacular. Ambulon only spoke Neocybex and as far as he was concerned, they sounded fluent.

    Surprised, Ambulon said, “I didn't know you could speak that language, Ratchet.”

    “I can, however I don't know how to read it,” said Ratchet. “Growing up, my family mostly spoke Neocybex. I learned most of what I know in Rodion from other medical staff, including Pharma.”

    “Wait, Pharma knows Primal Vernacular?” asked Ambulon.

    “Yes, that was his first language,” said Ratchet. “He was from a small village in Stanix that had a lot of ancient ruins and the locals still spoke Primal Vernacular. So he was no different. Don't you remember that alchemy book of his? Parts of it were in Primal Vernacular. The rest was in Autobot-coded Neocybex.”

    Ambulon didn't remember. He was too busy admiring the illustrations when he was looking through it.

    “Does First Aid know Primal Vernacular?” asked Tailgate.

    “No,” said Ratchet and Ambulon simultaneously.

    “He wishes he did,” chuckled Ambulon. “He's a big fan of the Wreckers and unfortunately, the Wreckers mainly speak Primal Vernacular. So First Aid has to rely on translations of their interviews and stuff, that's were Fisitron's 'Wreckers: Declassified' comes in, it's in Neocybex.”

    “I'd be more than happy to teach him,” said Tailgate, “I need others to practice with. At least that's what Cyclonus has suggested.”

    Crossing his arms, Ratchet said, "That's not a bad idea. Maybe we could change up the schedule so Tailgate can work at the same times as First Aid." 

    “Aww…,” said Ambulon, “but I like working with Tailgate.”

    “I can come by an teach him later, or during my breaks,” nodded Tailgate.

    “Excellent,” said Ratchet.

    Meanwhile, in the intensive care room, Quark was woken up by a sudden noise. He turned on his avatar to see what it was, but its vision was so bad he had trouble making out what he saw. From what it looked like, his roommate, a white and teal blob, had sat upright.

    “Dear Primus you're awake!” exclaimed Quark.

    His roommate turned to him and muttered something angrily in Primal Vernacular.

    “Did you just tell me to shut up?!” said Quark.

    His roommate chuckled and continued to speak. His voice was like déjà vu, but it had been years since he heard it. Quark touched the call bell.

    Ratchet decided to go check on Quark and nearly fell over upon seeing Pharma sitting up. Pharma shot him a dirty glance before saying in Primal Vernacular, “You thief.”

    “I apologize but it had to be done,” said Ratchet in Neocybex, “we were collecting evidence.” He spoke into the call speaker, “I require assistance.” Then he turned off the call bell.

    Ambulon and Tailgate arrived, and were shocked to see Pharma. As Ambulon and Ratchet, moved to assess him, Pharma flipped out his vent guns and aimed them at the medics. Fortunately, the medics had disabled the weapons, as part of standard precaution. Realizing what had occurred, Pharma sighed and said, “I have forgotten this hospital procedure, just like I have forgotten Neocybex, but I can live with that.” Pointing at Ambulon with his finger he uttered, “At least this bastard can't understand a damned thing I say.”

    “Calm down!” cried Tailgate.

    “How do you expect me to calm down if this is my layover on my way to the afterlife?” asked Pharma, “They want me to die! Don't you understand?!”

    “Wha…?!” gasped Tailgate.

    Taking advantage of Pharma's temporary distraction, Ambulon prepared a tranquilizer and stealthily injected in to Pharma's IV. Pharma realized too late what Ambulon had done. “You treacherous rat. Ugh…” groaned Pharma, as he appeared to calm down.

    Ratchet asked, “What is your name?”

    Pharma replied, “You know my name.”

    “But do _you_ know it?”

    “Yeah, it's Pharma.”

    “What time is it?”

    “Time for you to leave me alone. I don't know.”

    Who is the current Prime?”

    Figuring out that Ratchet was doing a neuro assessment, Pharma answered, “I forget his name. He is a fiery youth, but also very sad. He always looks like he's about to cry. Um…Babymus Prime?”

    Ratchet looked at Ambulon. It was close-enough.

    “Where are we at right now?” asked Ratchet.

    “The prison hospital,” replied Pharma, who yawned.

    It seemed that Pharma had only temporarily forgotten Neocybex due to the stress. Ratchet continued to monitor him, as Tailgate and Ambulon worked together to move Pharma to another bed, since he no longer needed to be connected to the machines. Meanwhile, Pharma was getting over his shock and slowly remembering Neocybex again. However, since he was still mad at everyone, he just acted like he didn't understand Neocybex just to mess with them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As far as I'm aware, IDW/G1 canon has never mentioned Pharma's place of birth, only that he worked at Rodion with Ratchet for a time. 
> 
> For the sake of this AU, he is from Stanix, a large city-state famously known for the Acid Wastes, which are located there. However, he's not from the Acid Wastes either. Like Ratchet had stated, he was "from a small village that had a lot of ancient ruins." That is a vague generalization that's only partially true, Pharma's village was next to a very large necropolis near a great river. In my own development, I loosely based its description on Thebes, which also had a necropolis and was close to the Nile River. As a result, Pharma, as I've written him, was coded as a Thebian alchemist. 
> 
> Unfortunately, I'm aware that this has never been properly conveyed at all. But that is my fault since I'm a very visual person but I'm bad at describing. In fact, this entire story was meant to have Ancient Egyptian motifs peppered throughout it, but that has since been lost. XD


	4. A slow day at Swerve's.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skids is cleaning out a storage room in Swerve's bar and finds an old arcade cabinet. Red Alert decides to play it while everyone else carries on as usual. Later, Trailbreaker arrives and starts chatting with Swerve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A random filler chapter that I somehow managed to write in one sitting. XD

    Following Rung’s advice, Red Alert decided to take a break and go to the bar in an attempt to “relax”. Since it was still early, only he, Skids, and Swerve were there. (Trailbreaker usually arrived much later.) He ordered a soda, which Swerve took out the fridge and handed it to him, unopened. He then slid him a towel just in case of a spill. Fortunately, the soda didn’t explode and Red Alert decided to use the towel as a coaster.

    “What are you doing?” asked Red Alert, when he saw Swerve fiddling behind the counter.

    “I’m checking the tap,” said Swerve. “I’m testing it out with random tap water to clean it up first. I hope it’s all patent through. This whole set up is as old as balls.”

    Swerve continued to explain every single thing he was doing because he loved to talk. Fortunately, his detailed descriptions were extremely comforting to Red Alert that he listened, intrigued by it all.

    Meanwhile, Skids was helping Swerve clean up the bar and tasked to clear out an old storage room. He was putting all of the junk in a little cart. (He was going to dispose of it in the furnaces.) Most of it seemed useful; they were extra chairs and other types of glasses, in the back he saw an antique arcade cabinet that was nearly in mint condition. Not sure of what to do, he decided to call over Swerve. Swerve stopped talking and hurried over to Skids.

    After picking up Swerve to get him close to the arcade cabinet, Swerve said to Skids, “This looks very nice, I think.” He adjusted his visor and squinted, but still couldn’t make out the designs printed on the side. “Please take it out and place it near the billiard tables. If it doesn’t work, we could always reuse the cabinet to hold glasses.”

    Skids put Swerve down and Swerve returned to connecting the old kegs to the dispensers. After analyzing the layout of the storage room, Skids snaked his way in and carefully extracted the arcade cabinet. Skids inspected it upon seeing it in the bright lights. The game’s name was written in Primal Vernacular, but from what he understood it roughly translated to "False Hope", or perhaps "Pipe Dream". On one side was a painting of a black and purple flyer, which had his head and hands detached from his body. Given the occult symbols painted on the other side, Skids assumed it was some sort of horror game. He placed the arcade cabinet on a dolly and moved it to where Swerve had instructed.

    After he finished installing the cabinet to its new location, he decided to open it and empty out the coins. He pulled out a strange key he had in his possession. As far as he could remember, he always had this key and it could unlock anything. As soon as he inserted the key, he felt a sharp pain on his right side. It began to hurt even worse as he turned the key. Skids got up thinking he was in an awkward pose and opened the cabinet. Old coins came out of it and Skids put them in a sack. He removed three coins from the sac and hoped to test out the game with them.

    “What are you doing?” asked Red Alert, who had become distracted by Skids crouched on the ground tinkering with something, in the distance.

    “I’m installing this old game I found in the bar’s storage room,” said Skids, “hopefully it works and the patrons have more entertainment here. I haven’t tried it out yet.”

    “May I help?” asked Red Alert.

    “Go for it,” said Skids taking out a handful of coins and putting them in an empty bowl that was on a nearby table. He then placed the bowl next to Red Alert, so he could play. Red Alert shrugged and took the coins that Skids had set aside earlier and inserted those.

    Skids showed Swerve the coins in the sack. They were very old coins, perhaps dating to before the golden age. Swerve and Skids looked through them, and decided to collect the shiniest coins and use the rest as game tokens.

    As they were sorting the coins, they heard someone strike the counter with their open palm. Swerve looked up and it was Trailbreaker. Confused, Swerve checked the time and it was already 12:40 pm. He hurried and took Trailbreaker’s order as Skids finished sifting through the coins. As Swerve was talking to Trailbreaker, Skids noticed that Red Alert was still playing the game.

    Approaching Red Alert, Skids asked, “So how was the g—?” Interrupted when Red Alert pulled out his taser at him. (The sign Swerve had placed outside said “No guns, no knives, or no briefcases.” Therefore, the taser wasn’t against the rules.)

    Red Alert looked physically drained and distressed that Skids interrupted him. It took a moment to realize what had happened and Red Alert quickly withdrew his taser. Feeling guilty, he quickly left the bar without apologizing, which he meant to do but was too upset to even speak. Skids looked at the game, which seemed to be functioning. Skids did feel bad for startling Red Alert but tried his best to ignore it. He returned to see how Swerve and Trailbreaker were doing.

    “…Holy frag, Blurr looked so cute when he was sparked though,” said Trailbreaker with a slight grin. “That’s because sparked bots get that glow from carrying such a new spark. I’m glad he and his sparkling are okay. Speedsters always have difficulty for some reason and it's terrible.”

    Swerve’s eyes widened, he had been talking about wanting to call Blurr to set up a bar when Swerve returned to Cybertron – and Trailbreaker started talking about pregnancy. He wasn’t going to judge, especially since he knew that Trailbreaker was absolutely correct about Blurr being cute.

    Upon seeing Skids, Trailbreaker quickly tried changing the subject. “You know what I can’t stop thinking about? Insecticon queens and how they’re almost always sparked because that’s what they do, man. They get so chubby and soft. I don’t like how they look sad though. They should be happy because they’re getting pampered and showered with affection. They’re queens, right? So of course they’re treated like royalty.”

    “Insecticons are terrifying though,” interrupted Skids, as a faint memory seemed to flash before his eyes. “I remember that me and my friend were trying to run away from these giant golden insecticons that started swarming after us. They were pissed. I…I don’t remember what we did to mess with them.”

    “Insecticons only get mad if you tried to steal from their food supply, attempt to harm their beloved queen, or if they’re just plain xenophobic,” said Trailbreaker. He paused and took a drink.

    “Yeah, I remember that this friend always carried snacks with him,” said Skids, “he probably stole their honey! My friend looks like that kind of honey thief. He probably wanted it because it's homemade and not from a factory. I don’t remember what happened to him or how we got away from those insecticons, but I’m sure everything worked out just fine.”

    “Good,” said Trailbreaker, “At least it didn’t involve harming the queen because only real scum would dare to hurt a harmless and defenseless insecticon queen.” He took another sip.

    “Wait, they’re harmless?” asked Swerve, as he remembered every single insecticon he had ever seen and how deadly they looked.

    “Yeah,” said Trailbreaker, “Most don’t have naturally occurring weaponry. I mean, if regular bots get sparked, the functionality of their weapons normally decreases. Since queens are expected to be sparked most of the time, they don’t need weapons. Besides, the rest of the colony is ready to protect them, so it’s all good.”

    Swerve continued to be amazed how much Trailbreaker knew about insecticon queens and colony breeding. The conversation shifted back and forth between technical to downright explicit. Fortunately, it was a slow day and no other patrons appeared to overhear it. And on that day, Skids learned more than he ever wanted to know about insecticon communal interfacing. He couldn't help but feel confused and a little curious about it. Swerve then served Skids a drink, on the house, for his assistance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, Trailbreaker has a pregnancy kink and this is why he knows so much about insecticon breeding habits. Sometimes his pregnancy kink goes too far to the point it becomes a daddy kink, because he wants to spark someone and then help raise their sparkling because he's the father. :3
> 
> Speaking of insecticons, the golden insecticons Skids references are the legislators. As you may recall, he was sent to brainwash the chief justice, which the legislators consider their colony queen. So by this technicality alone, Skids truly is scum. But at least he still has his skeleton key and that's pretty neat. ~~I want one.~~


	5. First impressions always count.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perceptor goes to introduce Drift to Quark. Rodimus goes in for a routine exam and Tailgate talks to Pharma.

    The door chimed and Perceptor entered the medibay accompanied by Drift and Rodimus. Ratchet’s chevron perked up and knew Drift had entered. Ratchet low-key hoped that Drift wasn’t going to try to do any of that weird nonsense healing on Quark…or even Pharma. Upon seeing First Aid and Ratchet at the nurses’ station, Rodimus groaned. He looked at Drift and said, “I thought you said we were going to Swerve’s to try out that new arcade cabinet game he installed.”

    “No I didn’t,” replied Drift, “I said I was accompanying you to the medibay because Ultra Magnus asked me to take you there for your yearly physical. How did you get ‘Swerve’s arcade cabinet’ out of any of that?”

    Rodimus pouted as Perceptor checked everyone in with First Aid. (Rodimus had a tendency to hear what he liked when confronted by bad news. However, this only happened when he was extremely stressed.) Rodimus entered a private room and Ratchet handed Perceptor two visitor’s passes and they made their way to Quark’s room. Ratchet then monitored the video feed from the room and saw them enter. 

    Quark had activated his avatar, and sat in his little model apartment, waiting for them.

    Smiling, Perceptor said, “Quark, I’d like you to meet Drift, my beautiful friend.”

    Quark, however, was unimpressed. “What about Brainstorm? He’s got killer legs. I mean it, he was showing me those gattling guns he recently installed.”

    “Look!” cried Perceptor as he patted Drift’s thick thighs. "His legs are lovely too!"

    Drift was too confused with microscopic customs, that he just stood there as Perceptor was becoming increasingly more distressed. Perceptor had forgotten to tell Drift that it was expected for microscopes to show off their friends to their relatives for approval. Unfortunately, what Perceptor did not realize was that Quark couldn’t see every well from the avatar. To Quark, Drift just looked like a fox-eared white blob on a pair of drumsticks. (As for Brainstorm’s gattling guns, he was allowed to touch them and could visualize how they looked like on Brainstorm.)

    Quark had always had exceptional vision, even for an electron microscope. Quark’s vision had been so strong, he needed to wear corrective lenses so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed by the sensory overload. Everything he saw through the avatar was extremely blurry but he had been reluctant to say anything. He feared that his mentees would uninstall the hardware to repair it and he didn’t want to lose his only form of communication. (This was partially why he requested a special phone earlier. The other reason was that the avatars were mentally draining to use.)

    Meanwhile, First Aid taking a blood sample from Rodimus, for laboratory studies in the private room. Ratchet was at the nurses' station, doing some charting while overseeing First Aid from the security camera. As soon as First Aid started filling the first vial he cried, “Oh no! Rodimus has anemia!”

    “What?” asked Ratchet speaking into the microphone and confused by the random statement. (Since anemia isn’t usually detected by simply looking at the blood.) “Can you explain?”

    “The blood is white,” said First Aid, “It should be pink.”

    “It doesn’t quite work like that,” said Ratchet, “even though pink is the most common color. However, it’s different depending on your type. For example, Drift is a speedster so his blood is reddish and that’s normal for speedsters. Rodimus’ blood is white because it’s Holy Energon. This is quite rare and often associated with Primes. There is a belief that those born with it are reincarnations of one of the original Thirteen Primes.”

    “Yeah,” said Rodimus happily, “but I don’t think I’m reincarnated though.”

    “Okay,” replied First Aid still not satisfied with the explanation, “but Pharma has white blood too and I don’t think he’s exactly Prime material. He was, in fact, very anemic when we’re in Delphi.”

    “Well, in his case, the anemia was caused from a combination of malnutrition and excessive alchemical practice,” said Ratchet, “most of those ‘recipes’ involved blood offerings. One of the reasons I was against it, since it was unsanitary. I will admit that Pharma proved me wrong in this case, that it can be done in a cleaner manner, but he's a doctor. Huh…I didn’t know that about him. Interesting.”

* * *

    Nearby, Tailgate was finishing up sweeping the floors when he heard Pharma call his name…sort of. (Pharma was still unwell during yesterday's introductions that he misheard Tailgate's name as "Rail Gate".)

    Pharma was sitting on the bed, and wasn’t allowed to get up since he was still flighty, so there was an alarm placed on the bed. When he saw Tailgate he said to him in Primal Vernacular, “Can you do me a favor?”

    “What is it?” asked Tailgate.

    “Can you bring me some items?” asked Pharma. “It doesn’t have to be all at once, but whenever you can. It’s just random herbs, if that helps.”

    Tailgate took out his memo pad and wrote down the ingredients Pharma wanted. After reviewing the list twice, Tailgate asked, “What the hell is ‘harmless compound of natrium’?”

    Pharma covered his face. He was too embarrassed to admit he forgot a simple word like ‘table salt’ in his first language.

    “Don’t worry, I’ll figure it out,” said Tailgate as he put the list in his subspace. “Wait, I was going to ask you something. What does this mean?” He pulled out a photo of the arcade cabinet that Swerve had recently installed at his bar and pointed at a random symbol.

    “That’s an evil symbol,” said Pharma, “but I don’t know what it means because I don’t dabble in the dark arts. I’m going to assume you kill demons in that game or something.”

    “Alright,” said Tailgate, “it explains why Cyclonus just grabbed my first photo, ripped it up, and called Swerve a fool. I tried to ask but he said I shouldn’t be learning bad things.”

    “Good,” said Pharma. “Doing those things is just asking for trouble. I've never seen anything good come out of it. And no, alchemy is not part of these dark arts. It can't be. Alchemy is neutral, and the only reasons anyone should be doing it is for good. I relied heavily on it at Delphi. How else was I going to get medicinal ingredients?”

    Seeing Pharma look slightly upset about mentioning Delphi, Tailgate decided to change the subject. “I'm trying to teach First Aid, Primal Vernacular. Maybe one day we can all chat with each other.”

    Pharma laughed and stopped. He thought it probably wasn't a good idea that First Aid was only interested in learning the language so he could have more material to work with in regards to his fanfiction on real life people. But still wanting to take a jab at First Aid, Pharma said, “He wants to learn the Nyonian dialect, to be more specific, and that's like one of the ugliest dialects I've ever heard. They all sound like angry drunks.”

    "Cyclonus told me that too," said Tailgate. "He says the Tetrahexian is the best one and the Iaconian one is a close second. Speaking of Nyon, I heard Rodimus was from there, but he sounds Iaconian. I'm too embarrassed to ask."

    "I don't think that's embarrassing," said Pharma, "you just want to know. Embarrassing is pretending your paint job looks good when it's all cracked and peeling."

    "I know, right?" replied Tailgate, who didn't realized that Pharma was taking a jab at Ambulon too.

    They continued to talk for a bit until Tailgate had to return to work. Tailgate noticed that Rodimus left the private room and was going to Quark's room to join up with Drift and Perceptor. Taking Pharma's unintentional advice, Tailgate approached Rodimus. But stopped. He had become too mesmerized by Rodimus' hips to say anything and decided to resume his duties.

    Meanwhile, Rodimus was oblivious to Tailgate's attempt to approach him that he entered the room casually. Rodimus then came out of the room and used the hand sanitizer that was outside the room. He remembered the medics regularly using it but he had forgotten there was one inside the room. Unlike Drift, Quark managed to see Rodimus but that's because Rodimus cheated. Being the Matrixbearer, the energies of the Matrix itself transferred to Quark by touch. Rodimus had placed his hand on Quark's shoulder when he was talking to him. At that moment, Quark saw him and was disappointed in Perceptor for not befriending someone as beautiful as Rodimus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The "cleaner manner" Ratchet describes Pharma's blood offering is that Pharma drew his blood as if he was doing a blood test. (Like how First Aid did with Rodimus). Pharma kept several vials in a small refrigerator and used a syringe to withdraw the amount he needed.
> 
> Speaking of Holy Energon, this AU it is said to denature the compound that makes Dark Energon so corrupting. For this reason, it's thought of as a cure for Dark Energon contamination. It is only found as metabolized energon inside very few individuals, making it even more rare. The gene that causes this has not been identified but the Matrix mutates this gene in the Matrixbearer during their reformat/upgrade. ~~This type of factoid does not belong in prose.~~


	6. Business as usual, I suppose.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus holds a meeting with some high ranking officers to discuss the next course of action. Meanwhile, Red Alert seems to be having relationship issues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rodimus appears to be a more competent leader in this than in canon.

    Rodimus was supposed to have a meeting with Ultra Magnus, Inferno, Drift, Hound, and Red Alert. However, Red Alert was running late which was unusual for him and not answering his calls. Meanwhile, Rodimus connected his personal laptop to the projector.

    Magnus frowned and said to him, “What are you doing?”

    “I need to pull up the radar’s readings,” said Rodimus, “Let me login first.” There, everyone saw Rodimus’ laptop wallpaper which was just a digital painting of himself surfing on meteors. Then it switched to random flames on a black background, since he had the wallpaper set to slideshow.

    “Why are you using your personal laptop and not the work one I gave you?” asked Ultra Magnus.

    “I couldn’t login in that, so I had Brainstorm help me install all the required software on this,” said Rodimus. “I had to uninstall my games, my animation, and sculpting apps with their assets for this. I even used that password you gave me and it never worked.” Rodimus got up and pulled out the work laptop from behind a nearby shelf and handed it to Magnus.

    Although Magnus trusted Rodimus completely, he decided to try to use the password he had written and attempt to login. It worked. Just like it had worked when he double-checked the password before giving the laptop to Rodimus. However, he realized what caused the problem; his fingers were too large for the laptop and he touched other nearby keys too. So when Rodimus tried to type, his smaller fingers never touched the other keys and he always typed it in wrong.

    “Change the password,” said Magnus to Rodimus, “Maybe this time it’ll work and you can have your personal one back for your things.”

    As Rodimus changed the password to match the same one he used for his personal laptop, Inferno said, “I promised Red I wouldn’t mention private things, but he’s been acting strangely lately. Like something has scared him. I tried to ask him but he either changes the subject or gets mad at me.”

    “Can’t you schedule an appointment with Rung for him?” asked Drift.

    “I can’t,” replied Inferno, “Red doesn’t like that. He may think I’m plotting against him or something. It happened once, so never again. I’ll see if I can convince him, but I have to do it when we get back to our hab-suite. He doesn’t like others knowing he’s distressed because then he feels more vulnerable. Also, don’t mention I said anything about this.”

    “Okay,” said Rodimus, who was reconnecting the projector to the work laptop. “Since I don’t want to keep you all waiting, let’s begin. Also, don’t worry Inferno, I don’t mind briefing Red on what he’s missed.” Rodimus accessed a read-only version of the ship’s navigational systems. He pulled out a laser-pointer and pointed at some blurs on the screen. “We’re going to pass through this weird magnetic cloud in two days. Hoist, Grapple, Trailbreaker, and Hound informed me that the ship is currently being manually piloted. I don’t remember the specifics, but the magnetic clouds can ruin navigational instruments and no one wants to get lost. For this reason, I was advised to ban the use of telecommunication devices but I’m worried about emergencies.”

    “Well, we can always exempt security and medical personnel from this temporary ban,” said Ultra Magnus. “I already have ideas on how to enforce it. We make everyone surrender their phones and we lock them up until the ban is lifted. Based on the map, the ban will end in three days because this cloud is huge.”

    The door opened and Red Alert walked in. He looked frazzled and took a seat. Remembering what Inferno had said, no one made mention of it.

    Magnus got up and pointed at the map projected to the wall. “We’re going to pass through a large magnetic cloud in about two days. Because of this, the ship’s engineers have already started piloting the ship manually. To make it easier for them, we’re proposing a temporary ban on telecommunication devices, such as phones or tablets. It is projected that this ban will last three days because that’s enough time for us to safely pass through the cloud.”

    Red Alert stared at the map, but then fell from his chair upon seeing Magnus. Inferno and Drift, who sat closest to him, rushed to help him get back up. Red Alert jumped back upon looking at them too. After everyone was settled, Rodimus resumed the meeting. Everyone also kept an eye on Red Alert, who seemed to be calming down as the meeting progressed.

    After the meeting, Inferno and Red Alert returned to their hab-suite. As usual, Inferno entered first and Red Alert locked the door, carefully checking that it was secured. Without warning, he began patting down Inferno. “Red, what’s going on?”

    “Are you still hurt?” asked Red Alert as he continued to touch his friend’s body.

    “No,” replied Inferno, confused by Red Alert’s behavior.

    Seeing that Inferno did not flinch, Red Alert believed him.

    “I was thinking that we should schedule an appointment with Rung,” said Inferno.

    Thinking that Inferno was unsure if there was a legitimate threat, Red Alert agreed. Inferno called Rung and put him on speakerphone as they scheduled the appointment. After the call, Red Alert asked, “Wait, why did you call for yourself too?”

    “I worry about you and I don’t know what to do,” said Inferno. Seeing Red Alert’s hurt reaction, Inferno added, “No, I didn’t mean it like that. I just have a lot of things on my mind and I’m worried I’ll end up telling others private things because I’m tired. I need to vent somewhere safe too. And I know that Rung has seen you, so it’s not like I’m gossiping about you.”

    “You don’t need to worry about me,” said Red Alert, “I’m cautious.” He looked at the time and said, “I want to go to Swerve’s again to play that game. I was so close of beating it yesterday.”

    “You’re spending too much time playing that game,” said Inferno, “I think you need a break.”

    “Well, I think you need to mind your own business,” snapped Red Alert, who got up and left the hab-suite.

    Halfway down the hall, he realized how his answer was too rude. He wanted to go back and apologize to his friend. Perhaps that was the reason Inferno wanted to see Rung too; he could no longer handle Red Alert’s verbal abuse. Maybe Inferno was too afraid to stand up to him and that’s why he always seemed to be very supportive. It was obvious that Inferno cared, there was no way to deny this but maybe that was also why he rarely called him out on anything. Stressed, Red Alert decided to continue on his way to the bar so he could play the game.

    Arriving at the bar, he noticed Skids putting up the bathroom “Out of Order” sign on it because that was all they had.

    “What happened?” asked Red Alert.

    “Rodimus went to go play but the game wouldn’t accept the tokens he inserted and kept spitting them out,” replied Skids. “Then I tried it and did the same thing. Not sure how to fix it, I’ll ask Brainstorm tomorrow, since he’s been busy all day.”

    “What if I try?” asked Red Alert.

    “Go for it,” said Skids, as Red Alert inserted a coin and it began to function normally…for about a couple of seconds before suddenly shutting down.

    Feeling sorry for Red Alert, Skids opened the machine and returned the coin to him. Disappointed, Red Alert returned to the hab-suite only to find that Inferno was gone and did not leave a note. Trying to remain calm, he decided to call Inferno only to see that the phone was disconnected. Panicked, Red Alert left the hab-suite and went in search of Inferno. The last thing he wanted was to lose Inferno.

    He looked inside the utility rooms, since he thought he heard Inferno but it turned out it was just random machinery making noise. (You'd figure he would've realized that after the third one, but he didn't. Red Alert was tired because he hadn't been sleeping well.) However, Red Alert was determined to find Inferno on board the Lost Light, which was a really big ship even if it took him all night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know Hound and Ratchet are high-ranking officers that should've been in the meeting. With Ratchet, it's understandable since he's probably tired from working at the medibay. As for Hound...I didn't think it through when I wrote this. Let's just say he probably called in sick or something, but he was just busy banging Mirage.


	7. An Evening Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ultra Magnus helps Red Alert find Inferno.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this AU, Rodimus is Optimus' son and the reason he's also the Matrixbearer is because he inherited Optimus' noble qualities which the Matrix had accepted.

    Ultra Magnus was walking down the hallway with Rodimus' drone, Roller. Rodimus had inherited Roller from Optimus Prime and had practically known him for his entire life. Rodimus usually kept Roller in his trailer and often took him on walks in the evenings. However, Rodimus was busy uninstalling the work apps from his personal computer and had delegated that task to Magnus. Despite the fact that Magnus never liked droids, drones, or any sort of pets, he had grown fond of Roller who was very obedient. (Being Optimus' drone, Magnus expected no less of him.)

    Roller's little light began blinking rapidly and he hurried to a nearby utility room.

    Magnus picked up Roller, opened the door and saw Red Alert, who screamed when he saw Magnus.

    “What's going on?” asked Magnus when he saw Red Alert trying to compose himself.

    Red Alert noticed Roller and said, “Let me borrow your droid, I need to track down Inferno.”

    Magnus began to pet Roller and said, “I'm afraid Roller can't help you. He's not a disciplined surveillance drone, and tracking down someone would overstimulate him before bedtime. I think it would be easier to look through the security cameras instead. I'd help you if you like.”

    Red Alert agreed and followed Magnus to the surveillance room. Both of them began to look through the cameras, while Roller sat peacefully on Magnus' lap. Magnus spotted Inferno in the kitchen but he wasn't alone. He motioned to Red Alert to look at the screen. 

    Inferno had gone down to the kitchen to eat dinner and there he caught up with Fortress Maximus, who had let him borrow his charger. (Inferno was having problems with his phone which seemed to stay at 20% or less and charged very slowly.) From the looks of it, there was no way that Red Alert would arrive in time since Inferno looked like he was finishing his meal. Magnus looked through the ship's personnel files to find Fort Max's contact information. But his information had not yet updated in the system, so Magnus was unable to contact him. They continued to observe them through the camera.

    “I have a question, is it possible for me to get a job here?” asked Fort Max.

    “It depends on what kind of job you want,” said Inferno, trying to scoop out the remaining bits of food from his bowl with the spoon.

    “I was thinking about security,” said Fort Max, “I used to be a warden in Garrus-9. Even though I swore I'd never do it again…I don't know what else I could do because it's all I know.”

    “Yeah, we definitely need more people involved in security,” said Inferno, “Red Alert, who is the chief of security, is overworked. Ultra Magnus sometimes helps him but being second-in-command, Ultra Magnus has other obligations he must attend to. Sometimes I help him, but then I usually going to the labs putting out fires."

    “How would I get in contact with him?” asked Fort Max.

    Inferno looked at his phone and bit lip when he realized it was still at 3%. His gut feeling was making him sick; he should've left a note but he figured Red Alert wouldn't return until after 10 pm, which was more than enough time to get back home before he noticed.

    “Do you know his number?” asked Fort Max.

    “Yes,” said Inferno, “But he's been so stressed lately that he won't answer calls from people who aren't contacts. I'd call him with mine, but that piece of crap would probably die on me again as soon as I'd start dialing. I think he's at Swerve's right now. You know what? Let's go there and ask him in person.”

    Red Alert and Magnus saw them getting up but had no idea where Inferno and Fort Max were heading.

    Fort Max nodded and Inferno decided to unplug his phone to take it with him. They took a detour to Inferno's and Red Alert's shared hab-suite. Inferno didn't realize that Red Alert had already stopped by, as he connected his phone to his charger. Before he left, he wrote Red Alert a message about Fort Max, specifying he was the Delphi patient, who was looking for employment. Feeling at peace about the message, he resumed his trip to the bar with Fort Max. Along the way, he told him about the game Red Alert seemed to have become addicted to. Although concerned, Inferno was glad it distracted Red Alert a bit.

    Fort Max wanted to comment on why Inferno seemed to want to talk about his roommate a lot, but he figured that they were probably extremely close friends – perhaps even a mated pair. (Most closely bonded bots can't think of anything else other than their beloved.) They arrived at Swerve's Bar and made a beeline at the arcade console which had the bathroom out of order sign on it.

    “Oh no…” muttered Inferno.

    Inspecting the arcade cabinet, Fort Max said, “Okay but why does this character look like the doctor?”

    “Which doctor?” asked Inferno as he looked at what Fort Max was pointing at. It was the black and purple flyer depicted on the side. Inferno had assumed it was Skywarp, the teleporting Decepticon outlier, brother-in-arms of Starscream.

    “The one from Delphi,” said Fort Max, “I think his name was Pharma, but he's hospitalized.”

    “I'm not familiar with him,” said Inferno.

    "He had these sick shoulder vents though," said Fort Max, pointing at the artwork. "From what I heard, everyone liked him because he was so talented. I was told he was the only one who managed to stabilize me. I owe my life to him…not this one, but you know what I mean."

    Red Alert decided he had seen enough and decided to go back to the bar. Magnus followed him as Roller rolled behind them.

    Meanwhile Skids approached them, carrying a tool box. He took it upon himself to repair the arcade console since it had proven to be very popular with the patrons. Inferno and Fort Max moved out of the way and watched Skids work, since there really wasn't anything else left to do.

    “What's this game about?” asked Inferno.

    “Shooting rocks with a triangle while going through flashing lights,” replied Skids. "It's creepy though, I don't understand why. But that still didn't stop me from beating it earlier today and that's when it froze. Later, Rodimus tried to play it and it wouldn't turn on. I guess this old thing wasn't used to someone winning or something. I tried unplugging it but it won't turn on."

    “Creepy?” asked Inferno, confused by the description. He couldn't fathom Red Alert liking something creepy.

    “Yeah,” said Skids, “I'm not sure if it's the music or what because it sounded awfully familiar, but I felt like I wanted to scrap myself while playing it.” Skids continued to work.

    Not wanting to waste Skids' time, Inferno and Fort Max decided to leave when they noticed Red Alert and Magnus walking through the door. Swerve noticed them too, especially Roller but realized his sign did not mention forbidding pets into the bar. Not wanting to get in trouble for sassing Magnus, he said nothing.

    Overcome with strong emotions, Red Alert said, “I'm so sorry. I didn't meant to be rude.”

    “You are tired, I understand,” replied Inferno.

    Because they seemed to make up, Magnus smiled and decided to go back to his hab-suite. He approached Swerve and ordered 5 salads; 1 for Rodimus and 4 for himself. Swerve took them out of the fridge, put them in a bag and accepted Magnus' payment.

    Magnus returned to his hab-suite and saw that Rodimus had left his laptop dangling too close to the edge of the sofa. After nudging it towards the sofa, he set Roller on the ground and placed the salads on the dining room table. Roller rolled into the kitchen and began to beep excitedly upon seeing Rodimus.

    “How'd it go?” asked Rodimus who was toasting sandwiches on the skillet. Roller began to blink his little light and Rodimus said, “Nice.”

    Rodimus had his own stove installed in the hab-suite because of convenience. He had already made about six sandwiches, when he had decided to stop. He figured that Magnus would've wanted dinner. Rodimus opened a small can of droid food and served some to Roller in his bowl. He then took the sandwiches and placed them on the dining room table and saw that Magnus had bought salad.

    Smiling Magnus said, “I trust that you had gotten dinner started.”

    “Of course, I'm not going to bed hungry,” replied Rodimus as he took 2 sandwiches for himself and left the rest to Magnus.

    Magnus handed Rodimus a salad and got two salads for himself. Magnus happily sat down and ate as he watched Rodimus coat his salad with hot sauce. Magnus' eyes widened; he practically felt like he got heartburn from seeing all that hot sauce. Not satisfied, Rodimus pulled out his pepper grinder from his subspace and added pepper to his salad and his sandwiches. Rodimus took a bite from the salad, his face was flushed and his eyes began to water. He chewed slowly and finally swallowed it, before giving Magnus a thumbs up. Rodimus then got one of his sandwiches and took a bite out of it to cool his palate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The ending is probably the closest thing I'll ever post in regards to rodimags (Rodimus/Ultra Magnus), one of my favorite TF ships. It's always been difficult for me to write more popular pairings because "it's been done" and I feel that there is nothing more I can add, so I shouldn't bother.


	8. The Eye of the Beholder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tailgate receives a lovely gift and goes to run an errand while chaos ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I got a bit distracted from the main Tailgate focus, but here we're back on schedule. X3
> 
>  **This chapter may be a bit unsettling because of body horror mentions.** I personally don't think it is, only that it's a bit weird. But then again, similar things happened in MTMTE/Lost Light which is supposedly aimed at teen readers. I guess it just proves that despite me BSing this entire story, it is still somehow faithful to the source material. :P

    Early the next morning, Tailgate was packing the items he had promised to bring to Pharma into his subspace when Cyclonus entered the room. Crossing his arms, he asked Tailgate in Primal Vernacular, “What are you doing?”

    “Bringing some stuff for a patient,” replied Tailgate, “He's tired of the hospital food.”

    “Don't do that,” said Cyclonus, “I mean, don't stuff things in your subspace, use this instead. Hold on.”

    Cyclonus left and came back with a little trailer. It was roughly the size of his old trailer, but a little bigger and of a Tetrahexian design. Cyclonus had made it himself while Tailgate was away at work, since he had nothing better to do to occupy his time.

    Tailgate let out an audible gasp. He approached the trailer and gasped loudly again. Cyclonus rolled his eyes as he observed Tailgate taking a few steps back, and transforming to connect himself to the trailer. Since bots with trailers are bonded to their trailers, they need to install the necessary drivers into the trailer for it to work. Tailgate couldn't help but be overcome with an immense sense of peace. Something he had been lacking for several months. Suddenly, the trailer dinged; Tailgate's drivers were successfully installed into it. Tailgate transformed and his trailer rolled towards his bed where he had laid out all of the items for Pharma.

    Tailgate turned to Cyclonus and said to him, “Thank you so much, I really mean it.”

    Cyclonus said nothing and went back to the kitchen to check on the tea he was brewing.

    Tailgate finished packing his trailer and transformed. He found it faster to drive to the medibay instead of walking there. Connecting his new trailer, he headed to work. Tailgate skipped breakfast that day because First Aid was going to bring doughnuts and kolaches for everyone.

    However, something wasn't right.

    First Aid had heard the doors opened and upon seeing Tailgate he said, “I'm so sorry, it got really busy this morning and I didn't have time to get the doughnuts I promised.” He pulled out his debit card and handed it to Tailgate, “Punch in and take my card to buy it for us…please. None of us have eaten either.”

    Tailgate took the card but was unsettled by First Aid's hushed and rushed tone. After punching in, he decided to visit Pharma instead. Pharma was sitting in his bed, eating an unsalted cracker. He noticed Tailgate and said to him, “Good morning. It seems the others had an emergency.”

    “What happened?” asked Tailgate.

    “They brought in this blue mech, but he looked very desaturated,” said Pharma, “Anyway, his minibot friend said he heard him scream and then found him collapsed on the floor of a pantry. Since the medics have all their attention focused on him, I guess it must have been something life-threatening.”

    Nervous, Tailgate said to Pharma, “I…I brought the stuff you wanted.” He quickly unpacked his trailer.

    “I didn't know you had a trailer,” said Pharma, “it's adorable.”

    “Thanks,” said Tailgate nervously, upset about the news Pharma had just told him. “I had lost mine before. I was trapped in a hole and remembered I left my lunch in it, so I detonated it. And this morning my friend gave me this new one as a gift. He made it himself.”

    “That's so sweet,” said Pharma, “I've heard being separated from your trailer, especially in a traumatic way like you described, may cause irreparable emotional or psychological damage because the bond was severed. I think there is a psychologist on board, perhaps you should pay him a visit.” Pharma couldn't help but feel frustrated that he couldn't help Tailgate adequately. (In fact, Pharma was just about to write him a referral but realized he had no permissions granted to do so.)

    Tailgate froze and realized that, that may've explained why he had been so upset. Not wanting to waste time, he bid Pharma farewell and went to go buy the doughnuts. As he was leaving, he nearly bumped into Rung because he didn't notice him.

    Rung hurried to the medibay and was greeted by Ratchet. Ratchet said to him, “He's stable now but he keeps calling out your name.”

    “Poor Skids,” said Rung as he was taken to a room near the nurses' station.

    Skids was lying on the bed, with a blindfold and a neck brace. He was desaturated and his lips quivered. Ratchet knocked on the door and said to him, “I brought Rung.”

    “Rung?” gasped Skids as he tried to reach out for him.

    Ambulon moved a chair close to the bed, so Rung could sit down. Rung held Skids' hand and said to him, “It's me, Rung.”

    Skids turned to Rung. He wanted to tell him what happened, but his vocalizer started to cramp. Blindfolded, he was unable to look into Rung's eyes and tell him. He felt his eyes burn and cold tears running down his cheek. Before he knew it, his eyes had begun to bleed again. Ratchet asked Ambulon to bring him more bandages for the supply room.  

    It felt as if someone else had immediately entered the room. The foul aura was hauntingly familiar to Skids. It appeared that they were looking at Skids from the bed and Skids was unable to tell either Ratchet or Rung to have this stranger kicked out of the room. He was paralyzed with an immense fear. Without warning, the unwanted guest climbed on the bed and sat down on top of Skids' chest at the grille. This blocked much of Skids' respiration, choking him. It was worse because Rung and Ratchet seemed aloof to his presence. The moment Ratchet had moved away to text First Aid, Skids heard the stranger whisper breathlessly, “I require your expertise.”

    Panicking, Skids tried to punch the mech out of the way, only to nearly hit Rung instead. (Fortunately, he managed to duck out of the way just in time.)

    Skids screamed again and muttered, “Go away you purple fragger!” He felt his arms lock up and unable to fight back, Skids started to weep.

    Rung put his hand over Skids' and said, “Me and Ratchet are still right here.”

    “He is very bad, Rung,” mumbled Skids who mouthed, “Get him away from me.” Skids then whispered, “The creep, not the doctor.”

    Rung said nothing and continued to comfort Skids as Ambulon returned with a sedative and the bandages. Ratchet administered the sedative through Skids' IV. It was quick to knock out Skids. Ratchet uncovered Skids' right eye. First Aid, entered the room holding a device to analyze the condition of Skids' eyes. Ratchet took the device and looked at Skids' right eye. Right away, he noticed there was something wrong with his retina. It was scratched beyond repair. Ratchet uncovered the other eye and found the same thing. Without looking at Ambulon, Ratchet said, “Ambulon, fetch me two eyes.”

    Ambulon went to the supply room again. He got a pair of eyes from a jar and put them in a plastic bag. He then grabbed a surgical kit and a plastic tub before hurrying back to the room.

    Meanwhile, Rung looked at Ratchet and asked, “He was hacked, wasn't he?”

    “It appears like it,” said Ratchet, “Somebody tried to laser-engrave coding into his retinas. Hopefully, this transplant will keep things from getting worse.”

    Ambulon returned with the supplies and working quickly, Ratchet scooped out Skids' eyes, throwing them in the plastic tub. He worked quickly to reconnect the new eyes, and re-bandaged him. It would take a couple of days for Skids' body to adapt to his new eyes.

    Meanwhile, Rung texted Inferno to wait for him because he was going to be running 10 minutes late. Rung told the medics that he needed to leave but promised to return because he had an appointment. As Rung left, he heard Tailgate call out to him, “Mister!”

    “Yes?” asked Rung.

    Holding up a doughnut with a napkin, Tailgate said, “Do you want a doughnut before you go?”

    “Thank you,” said Rung, who hadn't had time to eat anything. He took the doughnut and hurried to his office.

    Meanwhile, Tailgate went back to the break room and got a kolache for Pharma. As he was turning the corner, he noticed a light blue plume of smoke appear from Pharma's direction. The smoke had dissipated and Pharma was holding a couple of small silvery disks in his hand.

    Tailgate handed him the kolache.

    Smiling, Pharma said, “Thank you.” He took a bite out of it and said, “This one has sausage and cheese, my favorite.”

    “What are those?” asked Tailgate pointing at the disks.

    “They're supposed to deactivate my bed alarms,” replied Pharma, who put down the kolache and the disks to serve himself some water from the pitcher on his bedside table.

    “That doesn't sound good,” replied Tailgate.

    Pharma reached over and got his portable urinal. It was empty and he said to Tailgate. “Neither does pissing in this bottle. The medics are busy and they have to deactivate my alarm when I want to go. It's annoying for me and for them, but like really...do _you_ want to piss in a bottle?”

    “No!” replied Tailgate.

    “Exactly,” said Pharma as he hung the bottle from the bed's guard rail, “Then why do you think that  _I_ would want to? Now help me place these things over the sensors.” He handed them to Tailgate and instructed him where to place them. When he finished, Pharma finished his kolache and told him exactly how he used the ingredients that Tailgate brought him, to transmute the disks. Afterwards, he asked Tailgate to get him a band-aid. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're curious, Pharma had cut his right pinky finger with his fangs in order to get blood for his alchemical ritual and that's why he asked for a band-aid.
> 
> Speaking of medical supplies, spare body parts (except for things like T-cogs and brain modules) are supposed to be available and in-stock. At least, "average-sized" ones for mechs the size of Skids and Rodimus. It is often quicker to replace a damaged part than to repair it. The blank eyes will eventually gain their natural color once they're installed. (Similar to how Tailgate bonded with his new trailer with the installation of drivers.) For Cybertronians, their eyes are literally a window into their souls...er, sparks. Their eye-color is dictated by the wavelength of their sparkpulse. In some rare cases, this may cause eyes to change color based on the individual's emotions.
> 
> As for Skids, the investigation and what they think has occurred is described in the next chapter.


	9. Investigation in Progress

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ratchet and Perceptor study the engraved eyeballs. Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus and Fortress Maximus collect the phones.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went in a different direction than I had intended but in this case, this is a good thing. I like it better like this. :)

    Since Red Alert had an appointment that morning, Ultra Magnus decided to cover for him and begin training Fort Max. (All three were surprised that Rodimus hired him immediately.) Since it was a calm morning, they decided to start collecting everyone's phones and tablets prior to entering the magnetic clouds which seemed to be drifting towards them faster than expected. They decided to go through the halls and collect from everyone. They put their belongings in labeled envelopes, which they were going to store in a safe locker.

    They arrived in Whirl's hab-suite, which was nearly empty. After all, he had not brought anything with him on their trip and just sort of tagged along. He was looking at old photos on his phone of better times, but he felt nothing. He realized why Magnus and Fort Max had come. He didn't think twice about handing the phone over through the partially opened door and quickly locked it.

    Fort Max, who had gotten the phone, looked at the still lit screen and saw an inappropriate photo of a large brownish-orange and green mech. Fort Max's eyes widened, as if to understand the mech in the photo's thickness. His whole body became very hot.

    Magnus didn't need to see the photo and just lightly tapped the power button. With Whirl it was uncertain; sometimes he was offensive on purpose and other times he acted impulsively without wanting to offend. It appeared this was the latter, since Whirl wanted to remain modest from behind the door but had forgotten to turn off his phone since he was caught off-guard.

    Whirl observed them from the peephole and made note of Fort Max's flustered demeanor. A normal mech would've fainted from embarrassment but he didn't feel embarrassed-enough. Perhaps it was a coping mechanism, because he couldn't help but chuckle since it seemed that Fort Max liked what he saw too. After cataloging the phone, Magnus and Fort Max continued making their rounds.

    Meanwhile, Perceptor and Ratchet had arrived at the lab, carrying a red plastic bag with a plastic tub inside. Perceptor was a bit relieved he managed to visit Quark before going straight to work.

    Both of them did not speak to each other along the way. Ratchet knew that the only thing Perceptor was interested in was knowing his brother's condition. Because Ratchet adhered strongly to patient privacy, he wouldn't dare mention it in the hallways. Instead, he couldn't help but feel guilty about not sitting down and talking to Pharma – having a heartfelt conversation with him. Perhaps it was way Pharma always seemed annoyed, perhaps hurt, by his presence. Surely, if Perceptor somehow managed to take time from his busy schedule to talk to his brother, Ratchet had literally no excuse since his workload was much later compared to Perceptor's.

    Breaking the silence, Ratchet said, “I feel kind of bad for leaving Undertone with Drift again. He's already got his hands full with Slipstream and Jetstorm.”

    “Really?” asked Perceptor, “He loves them all very much. I don't think he minds being with them.”

    “You make a good point,” said Ratchet, “even though I pay him, I don't want to exploit him, per say.”

    “I understand,” replied Perceptor. He was anxious about something Drift had mentioned earlier. That he was going to take his twins to visit Quark. He was uncertain how his brother would react, perhaps flip out and assume they were Perceptor's, even though Drift claimed they were conceived back in New Crystal City after a close friend experimented with potent techniques on him. He didn't realize that Ratchet was looking at him and practically read his mind.

    When they entered the lab, Ratchet said, “I need you to examine Skid's eyes – the retinas in particular. I noticed a faint pattern on them.”

    Perceptor took the plastic tub from the red bag and looked at the eyeballs. “Who is Skids again, and what about him?”

    Pausing, Ratchet asked, “You know that blue mech that works at Swerve's? The one who works as a waiter and cleans the bathrooms?”

    “Yes, he's a such a sweet mech,” replied Perceptor. “What about him?”

    With an uneasy smile, Ratchet said, “These are … these are his eyeballs.”

    Perceptor's eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Ratchet explained that he found engraving in the retinas but wanted further inspection. Perceptor gave back the tub to Ratchet and transformed into a microscope. Ratchet placed the tub on the stage and examined it as he gazed into Perceptor's eyepiece. Pulling out his phone, Ratchet took good photos of the engraving, which they would then examine. After taking all the photos he needed, Perceptor transformed back into his robot mode.

    “Those engravings look recent,” said Perceptor as he looked at the photos, disappointed that they did not capture the detailed etchings that he had observed. “I saw shavings on the retinas still attached to the engraving.”

    Familiar chills went up Ratchet's spine but he tried to remain calm. “Well, we don't know much about Skids and neither does he, apparently. So it could be from whatever he was running away from.”

    Their conversation was interrupted when they heard a knock at the door. Perceptor looked through the security camera outside and saw it was Fort Max and Magnus. Perceptor pressed a button and opened the doors for them. They ducked and entered the lab.

    “We have come to collect your phone Perceptor,” said Magnus.

    “Hold on!” said Perceptor as he pulled it out and sent a text to Quark. He gave him Ratchet's number since he thought that perhaps Quark could help them in the investigation. Turning off his phone, he handed it to Fort Max, who put it in the envelop. Perceptor had other tablets but he didn't use them.

    Looking at Magnus, Ratchet said, “How did the investigation go?”

    “He just collapsed in the pantry,” said Magnus, “I reviewed the security footage and it seemed like an unprovoked attack. He suddenly panicked, screamed, tripped, hit his neck on the shelves, and fell on the ground. I planned to show both you and Rung the footage after I finish collecting the phones.”

    “Alright, I won't keep you,” said Ratchet.

    “What about Ratchet's phone?” asked Fort Max.

    “He is medical personnel and an extremely responsible individual,” replied Magnus. “He is exempt from our collection, but mostly for the former.”

    They left the lab and looked for Brainstorm, who was nowhere to be found.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I'm aware that I possibly broke the continuity of my own AU, but I really like the RID 2015 minicons being Ratchet's and Drift's kids. And since I wrote this, Undertone's sire is Wheeljack and the Driftlets' sire is Wing. Anyway, I just think it's cute that they would help raise each other's sparklings together. Not sure if I'll be able to focus development of this in this particular story. (Perhaps in a separate fic, if I ever write it I'll update this note with a link.)
> 
> As for Whirl, originally what I had in mind was him looking at old family photos. He helped raise the three Wrecker triple-changers as his own sons, since he could never conceive his own as part of his empurata punishment which is what also affected his emotions. At the last minute, I thought it would be too sad for him to reminisce about his sons he'd likely never see again, so I changed it to him fapping to an old dick pic which was from Roadbuster, AKA his lover, ~~because I will go down with this ship~~. Thinking about it, IDK if that's sad too because he'd also never see him again either. There is the heavy implication that in Nyon, most lovers like this, who are possibly amica endurae or possibly conjunx endurae, knew each other from their youth...


	10. The Short-Lived Arrangement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm must hurry to save Quark more time and recruits Pharma for the job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not gonna lie, I am beating the dead horse with this chapter. Why? Because this was the exact plot (sort of) that I had used in a previous story. It's just been cleaned up and improved.

    Brainstorm appeared in the medibay and made his way to Quark's room. He didn't have much time; Ultra Magnus and Fortress Maximus were looking for him. Quark sensed him arrive and activated his speakers, "Brainy, what's going on? Percy told me you weren't coming today."

    Trying his best to hold back his tears, Brainstorms replied, "I wasn't but then I remembered that the speakers and the projector have sensitive magnetic nodes that are installed into your brain. Not sure if you've heard but we're heading into a magnetic cloud and the last thing I want is for those nodes to malfunction and hurt you."

    Realizing that Brainstorm was about to suggest removing his only way of communication, the speakers produced an eerie wail. It sent shivers down Brainstorm's spine and after momentarily composing himself, Brainstorm added, "I promise to re-install it after we pass through the cloud." Pausing, Brainstorm realized that he wasn't able to remove the nodes himself. "Hold that though, I forgot something." 

    Brainstorm left the room. Without opening his briefcase, he remotely activated a strange device he kept in his briefcase and time stood still. Remembering that Ratchet was in another room, he decided to go back in time for a couple of minutes as he walked through the medibay. First Aid and Ambulon were too busy to help, since they were focusing on Skids. Suddenly, Brainstorm remembered Pharma and decided to approach him. Taking a deep breath, Brainstorm resumed time and said to Pharma, "I remember you, you were that brilliant medic from the Institute." He stopped himself just before he apologized for forgetting.

    Pharma turned to look at Brainstorm and said, "I'm Pharma and you're the one who gave me that grimoire as a gift. I can't thank you enough, it was an invaluable resource at Delphi. I'd do anything to repay you."

    "About that," began Brainstorm, hoping he didn't mess up because he was awkward at socializing. "I require your assistance, since you're a doctor and the others a busy. Not sure if you remember Quark and his hologram. Well, I need to remove the magnetic nodes implanted inside his head or else his head will explode. Everyone would be sad about it." 

    "So what you're asking me is to perform a surgery on him, correct?" asked Pharma.

    "Yes," replied Brainstorm.

    "I'd love to help you out but if I get in trouble if I leave from this bed without permission," said Pharma. "I fear First Aid and Ambulon are just looking for reasons to send me to prison and this could be one of them." Pharma noticed that Brainstorm seemed to vanish for a split-nanosecond before reappearing but said nothing about it. "But I'm guessing that you have a way around that, right?"

    Brainstorm looked relieved. He was slightly bothered by the unusual circumstances by which they had met. Previously, the conversation had gone in an uncomfortable route and Pharma had expressed his fear wishing he would die and planning for it to actually occur. Seeing that Pharma's new comments opened up more pleasant dialogue, Brainstorm replied, "Yes. I have a time traveling device with me that works for me going back in time for a couple of days max. It can also temporarily freeze time. So you can work and no one will know you've left the bed. How does that sound?"

    "I'll take than chance, but first I need to the proper equipment," said Pharma sadly.

    "Got you covered," said Brainstorm who pulled out a lunchbox from his subspace filled with different types scalpels and needles.

    "Those are embalming tools," said Pharma, "but they'll work just fine."

    Happy that Pharma agreed, Brainstorm took his hand and stopped time. Both of them felt a strange rippling sensation overcome their bodies as everything around them came to a sudden halt. With no time to lose, Pharma and Brainstorm returned to Quark's room. Along the way, Pharma noticed that one of the other medics had not logged off the computers at the nurses' station. Taking advantage of that, he decided to look at Quark's medical records. Since Brainstorm had already been through this before, he knew that Pharma was simply trying to figure out if Quark had any allergies or medical conditions that would affect the surgery. Satisfied, Pharma logged off the computer and continued on his way to Quark's room.

    Once again, they stopped nearby since Pharma wanted to transmute an anesthetic for Quark, since he had no access to the medication room. Having everything ready, Brainstorm got a hold of Pharma's hand and resumed time. Looking at Quark, he said, "I'm back. I spoke to Ratchet and he gave Pharma, permission to assist me. Since what happened with poor Skids, they're all short-handed but acknowledge that this must be done too."

    Since Quark was already connected to the monitors, Pharma said, "I will inject a sedative."

    "Your voice sounds familiar," said Quark to Pharma. 

    Pharma was confused since he arrived at the New Institute after Quark was comatose and never had a chance to interact with him. "I see..." He injected the sedative in the IV line. "...I mean, I've always been told I sound like a 'generic Straxian'."

    "No..." said Quark as he was quickly succumbing to the effects of the medication, "...are you Brainstorm's childhood friend by any chan...?" At that, Quark was knocked out. 

    With the embalming tools, Pharma worked quickly to remove the magnetic nodes from Quark's brain. Brainstorm had told him there were 5 nodes and Pharma counted to make sure he removed all 5 of them. Seeing that they could be sanitized and re-used, Pharma asked, "What do you want me to do with these?"

    Brainstorm paused and for a split-second seemed to disappear again only to return. "Better yet, hand me the nodes, I'll dispose of them privately. They can't be reused, unfortunately. I saw the future and the magnetic storm still damages them. They would have to be rebuilt. Let's go before the others catch on."

    Pharma and Brainstorm left, returning to Pharma's bed. Since Brainstorm knew that no one was going to search for him at the medibay, he sat down next to Pharma and resumed time. He pulled out his current cellphone and started taking it apart as Pharma watched. Brainstorm pulled out the sim card and placed it in a plastic bag. Afterward, he closed his phone and returned it to his subspace.

    "They are picking up phones today," said Brainstorm, "I had seen in the future that there was a need for one of us to carry a phone. Since we all gave up our phones, no one had any on them and couldn't get them back because they were locked away."

    "Are you like constantly going back and forth, nitpicking at the timeline?" asked Pharma both intrigued and concerned.

    Covering his face, Brainstorm nodded. "I just want the best possible outcome timeline for everyone...well, the good people and those who don't want to hurt anybody. I also mess up a lot and think people hate me for it."

    "It's a shame you can't go past a few days," said Pharma, "I had done something terrible in my youth that haunts me to this day." Pharma paused, trying his best to reword what he was about to say. "It was so bad that it pretty much has destroyed my life and future. I live everyday in fear that they'd find out what I did and kill me for it."

    "My friend, the one who had gifted me the original grimoire, yours is a transmuted copy by the way, had helped me create this device," said Brainstorm. "We worked at the Institute together. He had done something terrible in his childhood too, except his involved the accidental death of another sparkling. A large beam fell on the little one and crushed him because they were playing at a construction site. My friend decided to scare his young self and this little friend out of there. Fortunately, the sparkling was saved. Unfortunately, the change was so drastic that it caused my friend to be erased from existence. Due to the experiments, I was immune to the change and retained my memories of him. I loved him, Pharma. Perhaps it was due to traveling together, since we held hands and both of us were bonded throughout the process."

    "So you decided it was safer to only travel within a frame of a couple days instead of years because you don't want to lose anyone close to you again?" asked Pharma. "Seems reasonable. You come off as lonely fellow, perhaps not as lonely as me, but still..."

    Brainstorm unable to hold back his tears, started to cry. Instinctively, Pharma comforted him for several minutes. Just then, they were interrupted when First Aid entered the room accompanied by Fort Max and Magnus. Both large mechs were suddenly uncomfortable because Brainstorm wept bitterly, as if he mourned a deceased loved one, in front of them. Pharma reached into Brainstorm's subspace and handed First Aid the phone. First Aid handed the phone to Fort Max who put it in the folder as Magnus cataloged it. Both of them left to give Brainstorm some privacy.

    "What happened?" asked First Aid.

    Brainstorm grabbed Pharma and said to him, "I'm so sorry but you remind me so much of my dead friend. Seriously, it feels like I'm with him again, except I know there's no way you could ever be him. You are a nice good person who went to uni and made everyone proud. He was nothing more than a pervert with plenty of questionable fetishes that made me cringe and probably traumatized me. He was like the weird part of the internet personified. Still, I loved him."

    "Is there anything I can get you?" asked First Aid. "You too Pharma, while I'm here."

    Brainstorm shook his head.

    "I need to go to the bathroom," said Pharma.

    First Aid deactivated the alarm and Pharma hurried to the bathroom. First Aid waited for Pharma to reactivate the alarm and escorted Brainstorm out of the room. Brainstorm stayed with First Aid until he managed to calm down. However, his sadness turned to worry because he didn't tell Perceptor his plan about removing the magnetic nodes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Pharma was once Brainstorm's former friend from another timeline, sort of. 
> 
> Not. 
> 
> Brainstorm had helped him escape from jail and Pharma was so grateful that he gifted Brainstorm the alchemical grimoire. Then they worked together to save Quark from death, so now Quark is comatose instead of dead. As a reward, Brainstorm agreed to save young Pharma from a cult except that the change was so significant that this old Pharma was erased from existence. To make matters worse, young Pharma still got in trouble with the cult and destroyed his village by accident. And then there's the fact that in this destruction, an innocent sparkling was killed...since his body was never recovered. The sparkling's death haunts Pharma. (It was part of his motivation for becoming a doctor, to save many lives in order to compensate for the one he helped take.) Brainstorm feels worse since he was partially to blame. Due to this guilt and fear of Pharma hating him for ruining his life, Brainstorm kept his distance and Pharma never became part of his squad.


	11. Mental Meatloaf

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm is sad and tries to think back to happier times, only to discover those times weren't exactly happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Mental Meatloaf" was the original title for this story because it's an eclectic mashup of various old plot bunnies that needed to be posted. However, I decided to change it to "The Beautiful Liberation" because I felt that was more specific and it was appropriate for a story first posted on the 4th of July (United States' Independence Day.)

    Thinking back, Brainstorm’s tenure at the New Institute was a simpler time. It was there, where he first began studying science properly under his beloved mentor, Quark. There, he also met Hardhead, Highbrow, and Chromedome; a trio of mechs who quickly became his close friends, as well as Perceptor.

    During the time in question, Chromdome had just joined the New institute and began his apprenticeship under a mysterious mnemosurgeon named Trepan. Brainstorm didn’t know much about Trepan, other than the fact his coworkers didn’t trust him and questioned his morals. In fact, Quark told him the same thing and it was perhaps why Brainstorm tried his best to befriend Chromedome. Fortunately, it wasn’t too difficult because both were a pair of awkward oddballs.

    Chromedome narrowed his eyes, “I don’t know Stormy, he seems pretty nice. I mean, he’s a bit strict but that’s expected because safety is important.”

    “You make a good point,” said Brainstorm, “I guess I just got caught up in the hype. I feel bad about it now. I know a lot of people talked mess about me when I tried to study at the Science Academy; calling me an ‘airhead’ and saying I was stupid. I busted my aft to prove them wrong, but it hurts when I remember.”

    Someone suddenly sat next to them at their small round table and interrupted, “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to eat right here.” Brainstorm fell out of his chair as soon as he realized it was Trepan. Trepan was nonchalant with what had occurred and took a big bite of his sandwich. Brainstorm got back to his seat and continued eating his salad.

    “So…um…when am I getting these?” asked Chromedome as he tapped his fingers on the table.

    “Patience,” replied Trepan. “You haven’t learned how to um…you know…” He leaned over and whispered loudly, “It’s called ‘interfacing’ too like the…” Trepan proceeded to beatbox and added, “I wanted to say ‘probing’ but that doesn’t make it any easier because it's all the same. Ugh.”

    “So basically, it’s like mind-fragging?” asked Chromedome at a soft, but reasonable volume because he was too busy trying to figure out how Trepan beatboxed.

    Trepan covered his face as there was a sudden halt and silence in the dining hall. Slowly, it was followed by various whispers from the other coworkers. Despite wearing a facemask, Brainstorm could see Chromedome’s look of horror and embarrassment his reply caused his mentor. Chromedome wanted to die but that would make things worse.

    “Ignore them,” muttered Trepan, “at least that’s what I do. You know what? I’ll just finish my lunch at my office. You and your friend can come too, if you like.” Trepan wrapped his sandwich and left the dining hall.

    Chromedome and Brainstorm grabbed their stuff, following him. The three of them didn’t speak to each other until they arrived at Trepan’s office. Trepan locked the door and final spoke. “There’s been strange things happening here there past few years and you two seem to be the only ones ‘unaffected’. Obviously because you’re new.” Trepan looked at Brainstorm, “Chromedome’s friend, you know what we do here right?”

    “Research?” asked Brainstorm.

    “Yes,” said Trepan, “but some of us employ methods that are questionable.” He extended his finger needles and gently grabbed Brainstorm’s face. “We try to physically correct thoughts.”

    “I think I know what you mean,” said Brainstorm, “Lobe and that other guy with him are like that, I think. Quark had described them as ‘hands-on psychiatrists’.”

    “Yes,” said Trepan. “In fact, I remember when they first came here which was a few months after me. Not here, per say, we used to be in Tretrahex. Lobe, in particular, was a bright-eyed and innocuous mech. The other, his cousin, you know how he is; Lobe does all the talking. I think both wanted to get into this field because they wanted to help others heal.”

    “Aww,” replied Chromedome.

    “Please,” chuckled Trepan, “mnemosurgery isn’t any damn rainbows and sunshine. All the good mnemosurgerons are either morbidly sadistic or controlling and dominating.” He looked at Chromedome and said to him, “I can see your pettiness, Chromey, you are perfect the way you are.”

    “Thank you,” said Chromedome, as Brainstorm raised an eyebrow.

    Trepan continued with his anecdote. Around the same time, when he first started he had heard reports of a serial killer known as the Tretrahex Ripper and began his own investigation due to his morbid curiosity about the subject. The serial killer seemed to like gouging out the eyes of his victims and damaged their brains, so mnemosurgeons wouldn’t be able to complete the investigation. Trepan had found this to be quite odd, considering how obscure the mnemosurgery practice had become. (Trepan had found out about it when he was studying psychiatry. Thanks to his mentor, he found his way into the field.)

    He explained that it took him a long time to find the evidence to support the theory that the suspect in question was a mnemosurgeon. Around that same time, perhaps his obsession with the crime made him more aware of things that were otherwise unnoticeable. He noticed that Lobe’s personality was changing. Not only was he becoming more outgoing, but also extremely charismatic. His charisma seemed fake that at one point, Trepan entertained the thought that perhaps Lobe was this serial killer. But that was impossible; Lobe was a fellow student. He wouldn’t have known about covering up his tracks by destroying the brain modules and the killings started long before either of them entered the field.

    Trepan looked at Chromedome and Brainstorm, who listened attentively. He wanted to tell them that to confirm or dismiss his suspicions, he snuck into Lobe’s room and decided to inject into him. However, he found that someone had already injected Lobe before he did. At that moment, Trepan didn’t think of it as suspicious and continued with his own interfacing. Lobe’s intentions were still pure…at least from a mnemosurgeon’s standpoint. Lobe was still interested in helping traumatized patients overcome their traumas, but his interests had become more political. He still held some loyalty to the state. But Trepan's prying was cut short when he overheard Lobe’s cousin approach the room and he had to avoid getting caught.  

    “After knowing once and for all that Lobe was innocent, another thought had occurred,” said Trepan.

    “What was it?” asked Chromedome.

    Trepan noticed the time and was forced to cut the conversation short. They all needed to get back to work. From that day on, Brainstorm was more conscious of Lobe’s behavior. He was charismatic, but he was also an unapologetic asshole, yet everyone still liked him, as if they were enchanted by him. Brainstorm didn’t blame them, found Lobe attractive too but he wasn't his type.

    As Brainstorm continued to reminisce about the past in his room, he heard a familiar knock on the door. The door opened and Chromedome walked in. With his arms akimbo, Chromedome said, “What’s wrong Stormy?”

    “Percy is mad at me,” sobbed Brainstorm.

    “What happened?” asked Chromedome.

    “I took out those magnetic probes we put on Quark,” said Brainstorm, “because if I did, we’d end up arguing about it until it was too late. I had no choice. Magnetic clouds that ruin electronics and magnetic probes that are connected to brains don’t mix. It’s better to be safe than sorry.”

    Not wanting to see his friend upset, Chromedome decided to take Brainstorm to Swerve’s bar. They took a seat and Chromedome ordered drinks. Suddenly, he remembered to text Rewind where he was at because the trip was spontaneous. Meanwhile, Brainstorm’s gaze was directed elsewhere and focusing up ahead, he became paralyzed upon the realization of impending doom. Chromedome noticed he was staring and passed his hand in front of Brainstorm’s face but he wouldn’t budge. Chromedome pulled out a small convenient funnel and opened Brainstorm’s wrist. Carefully, he poured the drink into the wrist with the funnel, which seemed to unfreeze Brainstorm.

    “Let’s get out of here,” said Brainstorm.

    “Oh…okay?” replied Chromedome, who chugged his drink and left the tip on the counter for Swerve.

    As they left, Red Alert, who was playing on the arcade cabinet erupted in maniacal laughter. He finally defeated the game and beat Skids’ high score. Trailbreaker, Swerve, Chromedome, and Brainstorm looked at him. Chromedome and Brainstorm hurried away and Red Alert decided to play the game again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm is not a psychic, this is just effects from the time travelling he does. Unfortunately, he nitpicks at the timeline so much due to anxiety caused by his "mistakes", that he experiences these negative feelings of déjà vu on a regular basis.
> 
> Yes, the Trepan flashback is an old plot bunny too. It's actually supposed to be like a "Spotlight: Lobe" but I was unable to flesh out the plot. The most notable thing about this story was that young Lobe decides to seek out Froid, because he feels that Rung is terrible at his job. Froid convinces Lobe that he is the better psychiatrist with a pun, "There's two ways to go about this: the right way or the _Rung_ way, which do you prefer?"


	12. Historical Revisions and Cover-Ups

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm travels back in time to stop Chromedome from messing around with Overlord's mind in order to prevent the deaths of their fellow crew-members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the most blatant fanfic "re-write" of canon material that I've written to date. Also, I wanted to explain other AU stuff that I had mentioned before.

    Going back a couple of years to when the Wreckers had stormed Garrus-9, Overlord remembered it as clear as mud. His mistake was attacking Springer, the lowest power-level triple-changer he had ever encountered. Overlord was attacked by two mechs whose powers had multiplied by a tenfold due to an unlocked passive ability; the Dam’s Rage.

    The attack triggered this ability which overpowered the pair. He remembered that both managed to rip out parts of his impenetrable plating with their bare hands. Overlord could do nothing, he was paralyzed by his jealousy of such raw vengeful power. He thought the Dam’s Rage was a myth and began to regret not interfacing with Trepan. (That way the mnemosurgeon would spark him and make Overlord into dam, so he could get this upgrade. Even though, that’s not how the ability actually _worked_. Overlord would need to love and cherish his sparkling above his own life. That way, his hatred and powers would intensify if some fool would dare attack the sparkling.)

    In that moment of distraction, he failed to realize that the tiny grenades that riddled his body all began to detonate at once. However, something was amiss. There was a cocky, wide-shouldered, flat-aft, toothpick-legged mech watching from the sidelines. Overlord remembered seeing him before on various occasions. The mech always mocked his suffering and humiliation. There were old tales of a ghost-like entity who’d deride mechs in their moment of death and snatched their bodies upon their last breath. But to Overlord, there was no way such a powerful supernatural entity would have such a flat-aft. He had seen this fragger before, but _where_?

    Suddenly, Overlord remembered. It was much earlier than that at the New Institute. The mech was one of the ones involved with an attempt to brainwash Soundwave, who had been captured. Overlord, among others, was sent by Megatron to rescue him. Overlord ignored the carefully crafted plan and assaulted the facility, directly mowing down anyone who’d dare stand in his way. His attention was caught by a sensual long-necked, copper mech with his mnemosurgeon needles out. For a split second, a strange feeling overcame him that he changed his mind when he heard Soundwave’s frightened scream coming from across the hall.

    Overlord broke into the room, and the other mechs there either fled or fainted. Overlord was quick to untie Soundwave, who was ready to retreat. But not before Overlord turned around and saw another mnemosurgeon that was unconscious on the floor. He wasn’t as beautiful as the first one he saw, but he appeared easier to handle. As he picked him up, Soundwave said, “What are you doing?”

    “Taking a souvenir,” replied Overlord, as he followed Soundwave. For some reason, Overlord turned around and saw him; the mech with the flat-aft. The one who was tinkering with his mind for some unknown amount of time and was tinkering with it then. His leg was caught under the debris. Lucidly, Overlord went back and pulled him out of there with the freed leg. Holding the mech upside down, Overlord said, “Who’s laughing now?”

    However, before the mech had a chance to react he disappeared out of Overlord’s grasp and everything went dark. Remembering his lessons with the captured mnemosurgeon, it meant the interface was cut short because of a sudden interruption. Overlord could do nothing, he was in complete sensory deprivation.

    Meanwhile, Chromedome was lying on the ground, paralyzed by the sudden disconnection and back pain. Finally managing to move his eyes, he looked up and saw Brainstorm’s legs. Naturally, he looked up and saw underneath his friend’s skirt-plating. Confused, and outraged, Chromedome cried, “What the hell was _that_?”

    “I could ask you the same thing,” said Brainstorm, crossing his arms. “You’re interfacing with Overlord all by yourself.”

    “That’s why I was hired here, by Prowl,” said Chromedome. “I need to discover the secrets of how these point-one percenters get so strong. I mean, it can’t just be genetics. As far as we know, Overlord is the only member of his family to have inherited this condition. It’s something else.”

    Shaking his head, Brainstorm said, “Chromey, you have to stop blaming Prowl for everything that’s wrong with your life. Is that why you refuse to erase your memories of him? To have someone to blame?”

    “No, I…,” Chromedome paused. He was too embarrassed to admit that he was still in love with the black and white cop car because he was so busty and thick. “…I have tried. But he’s just so involved in every single conspiracy, he’s hard to forget. Besides, the only reason I would ever erase him from my mind was if he died. I don’t think I would be able to handle that.”

    Brainstorm was too smart to be tricked and knew that Chromedome was lying. Chromedome couldn’t even handle a “mutual” breakup like what happened between him and Scattergun. Pivot sent him a breakup text, which devastated Chromedome because he wouldn’t even tell him in person and made it worse by blocking Chromedome on everything. Mach had gotten in a fight with him over money. Heartbroken by the breakups, it was easier to forget these mechs had ever existed. As for Prowl, he tried to breakup mutually with Chromedome, but that triggered all of Chromedome’s repressed feelings of loss and it didn’t end well. (Surprisingly, Prowl has never had filed for a restraining order against Chromedome, despite it being warranted.) Brainstorm was baffled as to why Chromedome couldn’t move on and just be happy with Rewind – whose color-scheme was suspiciously similar to Prowl's.

    “Well, I don’t think you would handle losing Rewind if Overlord tricked you and escaped,” replied Brainstorm. “He’s small and Overlord doesn’t look like the type who’d think twice about stepping on an innocent minibot.”

    Chromedome got up and grabbed Brainstorm by the collar, outraged that he would suggest such a vile, evil thing happening to his beloved cassette husband. Brainstorm had never seen Chromedome so angry before. (But then again, Chromedome's obsession with Prowl made it appear as if he didn’t love Rewind very much.) Calmly, Brainstorm replied, “I’m sorry but when I walked in, I saw Overlord’s finger move…”

    “You what?” asked Chromedome as he snapped out of his angered state, releasing Brainstorm.

    “His finger,” said Brainstorm, who walked up to Overlord and pointed at his pinky finger. “This one, it had started to curl like this.” Brainstorm showed Chromedome who went pale behind his mask. “This is why you can’t be interfacing with anyone by yourself. I remember Trepan mentioning that's why mnemosurgeons always worked in pairs, even if their partner wasn’t a mnemosurgeon.”

    After calming down, Chromedome closed the secret lab and went with Brainstorm to his room to talk. Meanwhile, Brainstorm wondered if it was a mistake to travel back in time to stop Chromedome from getting too carried away with his experiment where Overlord got loose and innocent mechs were killed. When they arrived, Brainstorm locked the room and said, “This takes me back. Remember when Trepan gave us that little talk about the Tetrahex Ripper? It feels like this, how we all sneaked into his office and he locked the doors.”

    “Yeah,” said Chromedome, “He figured out the suspect and had revealed him to me the day before the Overlord incident.”

    “Who was it?” asked Brainstorm.

    “The former head of the Institute, Sunder,” replied Chromedome. “After Overlord destroyed everything,Trepan revealed everything he had found. It appeared that Lobe would’ve gone to prison if he had not gotten kidnapped, for being an accomplice, despite being an innocent victim because Sunder manipulated him against his will. Sunder wanted a replacement so he could commit his plans discretely since the head of the Institute had many duties to fulfill and an unexpected absence would've been suspicious. And yes, this took many years and months but it was still suspicious. Sadly Lobe's poor cousin died of grief because they were very close and there was no way of ever rescuing Lobe from Overlord who probably killed him.”

    “Huh…” Brainstorm replied as he paused time. He took a deep breath and traveled back in time. Using the severed hand of a random mnemosurgeon he found on the ground, Brainstorm made Overlord imagine that he heard Soundwave scream, the moment he caught a glimpse of Lobe. Manipulating the timeline to where Trepan got kidnapped and doing a bit of extra clean-up, Brainstorm returned to the present day and resumed time. “…Was it really Sunder? I mean, that's some elaborate scheming right there.”

    “Yes,” said Chromedome. “I feel bad for Trepan. He had all this evidence against Sunder in his office, but when I went to go get it, it was destroyed! All his work he spean years investigating and compiling, all for nothing! Every time I remember this, I cry for him. He poured all of his heart into the investigation because he wanted justice for the victims. I know he was a self-proclaimed gear-stick but he was a good mech, deep down. As for Sunder, he had disappeared long before this attack. There were signs his private room was long abandoned. I'm still mad that he got away.”

    “Terrible,” said Brainstorm calmly, since he had also taken the liberty to destroy the evidence. It seemed that Chromedome would’ve been the one to go to prison due to his lack of charisma and the fact he approached two very corrupt cops, ex-colleagues who got mad that Chromedome didn’t have bribe money. Out of spite, they used the evidence against him out of relatiation. 

    “I also remember Trepan saying that there was one other person who figured out it was Sunder too,” said Chromedome. “Not me, since I only know because Trepan told me. It was Quark, the most intelligent mech at the New Institute. Quark knew but unlike Trepan, he was consumed by the fear of Sunder getting revenge on him. Sunder could've gone after his little brother or even you.”

    Brainstorm’s eyes widened.

    “Why do you think there was always this ‘suspicion’ around Trepan for having put Quark in a coma?” asked Chromedome. “Sunder, who was still there, wanted to dispose of both. Quark was dead and Trepan in prison for killing Quark. It felt like Sunder was manipulating everyone there, somehow, except us. So perhaps a maintenance worker or a fellow scientist was mind-controlled into sabotaging the experimental device for Quark to have died. Fortunately, the plan failed and Quark survived.”

    Brainstorm made a strange noise that confused Chromedome. Up until then, Brainstorm never knew that there was such a conspiracy against his beloved mentor, Quark. Brainstorm never felt so much rage that all he could do was make a weird noise that ended up lightening the mood, because both laughed about it immediately afterwards.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "The Dam's Rage" ability only works if the parent loves their sparkling very much. So it's basically an insane power boost to help them defend their vulnerable offspring. I don't think Overlord would've ever felt so strongly for any possible offspring like this for him to have unlocked it. Besides, this ability can be unlocked by sires and adopted parents too because it's emotionally triggered. Carrying is not a requirement.
> 
> Overlord likes butts....er, afts. ;P
> 
> Here's the thing: the canon Chromedome/Rewind relationship would've been enjoyable to me if they didn't mention Prowl all the time. Like what kind of weak-ass, boring ship do you have to have to try to add this kind of nonsense to it? (CD/RW is interesting on its own for a multitude of reasons but this Prowl crap ruined it for me. So I will make it a point that their marriage probably sucks and Chromedome is trying to blame the one who got away AKA Prowl.) Yes, this is 100% unfair to Rewind. Besides, in the previous chapter it was clear that a good mnemosurgeon was a bad person, so that should explain a bit about Chromedome...but then, he seems bad at it, so perhaps he's not such a bad person after all?
> 
> And finally, why didn't Sunder mind-control or manipulate Brainstorm and Chromedome like everyone else? That's easy; it's because these two are a pair of awkward nerds. Even if they did figure it out, no one would believe them. (Hence the previous timeline where Chromedome went to prison for the murders.) This wasn't the reason Trepan told them about it. Trepan only wanted to vent to someone who wasn't under any sort of influence. Also, Chromedome used to be a cop, so he had knowledge and assisted his mentor with the investigation.


	13. The Dark Omen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ultra Magnus goes about his morning route but something is amiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, hopefully now everything sort of follows the comic, even though that's impossible at this point because Pharma is like their friend though he's just awkward and weird.

    The next day, Ultra Magnus woke up early and leaned over to turn off his alarm before it had a chance to ring. He noticed Rodimus happily curled up next to his bosom, still asleep. Magnus turned off the alarm and wanted to scold Rodimus for being there. (Magnus had a fear of injuring Rodimus while he slept because he often punched in his sleep and had ruined countless bed frames and nightstands.) Instead, he pulled out his sticky note pad and wrote “BAD” on it. He gently placed the sticky note on Rodimus’ head without waking him up before resuming his morning routine.

    Some time passed before Rodimus woke up. Thinking it was too early since the alarm didn’t ring, he decided to sneak back into his room to not get caught. His bedroom and Magnus’ bedroom was separated by the bathroom, and often Rodimus made a habit of looking at himself in the mirror to preen. Upon turning on the lights he saw the note Magnus had left and double-checked the wall-clock, it was time where Magnus would’ve already left.  

    Meanwhile, Magnus was walking down his usual route when he stopped and pulled out his phone, contemplating whether or not to make a long distance call. Disturbed by an odd dream he had regarding his employer, Magnus checked the time on his phone. He had the local time at the Luna-1 headquarters saved on his phone. (Mostly to avoid messaging his employer at an inappropriate time over something he felt was minor, but disturbing. He rarely dreamed and much less had a dream that was almost like a nightmare.) Since it was almost 5:30 pm on Luna-1, Magnus texted his boss that he wanted to stop by HQ after his return from travel. (Apparently, the Lost Light was ill-equipped for a long expedition that they were returning back to Cybertron. But the journey back was still quite long, since they had warped to an unknown location.)

    Magnus almost immediately received a notification from his employer which he promptly opened and read. It stated, “Hey ultra magnus if u come to hq and it smell like weed just know its actually sage. I had to cleanse the crib of demonic energies.”

    Shaking his head, Magnus messaged back, “What is going on?”

    As much as he respected his employer’s passion for justice, the one thing he couldn’t stand were his multiple grammatical errors…at least in the Autobot-coded Neocybex. (Which was Magnus’ preferred language and received his notifications in it.) Magnus didn’t really blame his employer for it, since he personally translated the Tyrest Accord into both Autobot-coded and Decepticon-coded Neocybex, and in Primal Vernacular. (The latter had impeccable grammar, as far as Magnus understood.)

    There was a pause and then his employer replied, "I don't know. I was attacked a few months ago by your fellow autobots a d one of the assailants has escaped."

    The news came to Magnus as a shock. It was the first time he had ever heard such a thing. He could only imagine the kind of stress his anxious boss was going through. Perhaps it was the reason he resorted to practice this "cleansing" in order to cope. Magnus really didn't believe in that sort of thing, but perhaps overhearing Drift's spiritualism may've swayed him into believing it a bit more. Magnus finally replied, "How did he look like?"

    His boss decided to send him an attachment, but somehow it became corrupted. Magnus asked him to send it again, but his employer stated he was having connectivity issues. "He was blue with cowardly yellow eyes and ugly red feet. He liked to drink a lot of water, which is good. But weed made him nauseous, which is bad. Hold on, ill will upload the photo to one of my private image accounts." After a couple of seconds, his boss replied with the URL. "I understand you may be in a dead zone, but whenever you can please check."

    "Alright, thank you sir," replied Ultra Magnus, who took the time to check his bank account and saw that his paycheck had been deposited. Satisfied, he closed all of the apps and resumed his routine.

    However, his intuition compelled him to go visit the oil-reserves, which was not part of his mourning route. (He went there in the afternoon.) He approached the vats and saw nothing there. But he was quick to detect the figure at the bottom of one of the vats. Donning his battle mask and activating his shielding buffer, he dove into the vat to rescue the bot in distress. Although he could not see, he picked up the figure and another smaller nearby object, taking them both up to the surface. He stood on the edge of the vat and allowed his buffer to push the oil back into the vats. The buffer had also taken some cleansing effect on the bot he carried and he realized he was holding Red Alert…and his detached head.

    Magnus immediately called Ratchet on the emergency line to report the incident. Magnus transformed into his alt-mode and placed Red Alert inside the trailer, before speeding off. As he hurried to the medibay, he regretted having declined Rodimus’ offers to race against him. (The practice would’ve prepared him to be faster for an emergency such as this.) Along the way, he caught up with Ratchet, who was waiting for him along with First Aid at the medibay.

    The medics got Red Alert and assessed him, before taking him to the operating room. Since Red Alert’s head was detached cleanly, reconnecting it back to his body was a simple task. First Aid performed most of the surgery since Ratchet’s hands started to cramp. First Aid was anxious because it had been a long time since he ever attempted such a thing. He tried to remember what Pharma did back at Delphi. After all, he had heard many times that Pharma was currently one of the best Cybertronian surgeons. (Remembering didn't help much. Especially since it seemed that Pharma rushed which always terrified First Aid, despite everything being okay at the end.)

    Magnus observed the surgery from a nearby window. Although that type of thing normally repulsed him, he was too worried for Red Alert to care. Inferno had mentioned the day before that he had scheduled another appointed with Rung for him, because Red Alert was becoming more agitated. Something was upsetting him but he was unable to tell anyone. Magnus called Inferno and told him to meet him at the medibay. As he waited, Magnus sensed someone behind him. He turned around and peered into the darkness. He saw a frightened-colored figure crouched behind a medicine cart. Magnus analyzed the color profile and realized the shade of fright was strong like a phobia. Since the figure itself seemed harmless and likely a patient who shouldn’t have left his bed, Ultra Magnus decided not to approach them and resumed observing the surgery.

    Meanwhile, Pharma continued crouching by the cart. The fear he felt when Ultra Magnus was directly staring at him, was indescribable. Pharma had heard stories of the legendary Tyrest Accord enforcer and how merciless he was to criminals, often executing them on sight. (These stories were nothing but fear-mongering propaganda but Pharma didn’t know any better.) As soon as Inferno entered the medibay and stood next to Magnus, Pharma darted back to his bed. His plans to sneak out and explore the ship had been foiled.

    Magnus left the medibay and hurried back to the oil reserves to investgate what had occurred. Inferno watched, unsure of what was going on. But it wasn’t much of a wait because the medics were done. The surgery was completed and the medics transferred Red Alert to a room near the nurses’ station. While Ratchet was busy connecting Red Alert to the monitoring devices, First Aid went to speak with Inferno who was listed as Red Alert’s first emergency contact.

    Shaken, Inferno grabbed First Aid by the shoulders. Trying to hold back his tears, he asked, “What happened to my friend? Who hurt him?”

    “Himself,” replied First Aid, “The injury was self-inflicted. We don’t know the reasons. And yes, I have messaged Rung about this, he’ll arrive here in a bit. Please come inside.” First Aid, led Inferno to the room, so he could stay there with Red Alert.

    About half an hour later, Tailgate arrived to the medibay and punched in. Something seemed different but he couldn’t quite place a finger on it. He grabbed his cleaning supplies and went about his routine. When he took his first break, he went to sit with Pharma.

    “Is it just me, or is it just a weird day today?” asked Tailgate.

    “There was a commotion earlier that woke me up,” replied Pharma. “I think someone had a terrible accident but that’s about all I know.”

    “Oh no…” said Tailgate. "Are all these bad things happening because of the magnetic cloud I've heard so much about? I heard they were evil."

    "I don't think it's the cloud," replied Pharma. "Maybe it's because I know the others are looking for excuses to throw me in prison, but I've had this bad feeling ever since I've come on board this ship. That this ship is haunted. It creeped me out more than the Peaceful Tyranny and its meat locker."

    "What's so scary about a meat locker?" asked Tailgate. "Is it because it's too cold?"

    Pharma gazed into Tailgate's innocent eyes. He liked him and couldn't bear to tell him that, that is where the DJD kept the bodies of those they killed. (He also wondered if they ate these victims because the meat locker was in the kitchen but he wasn't sure.) With a nervous smile, Pharma replied, "Yeah...I was caught in a blizzard, never again."

    Tailgate looked at the time. It was still early, but he decided it was best to start working so he could leave early. Skids and Red Alert being horribly injured by some sort of mysterious assailant made him worry if he was going to be next.

    Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus was still at the site with Fortress Maximus. Rodimus suddenly joined them and oversaw the investigation, trying to make sense of what had occurred. He attempted to consult the Matrix, hoping to find a clue that would help the investigation. Instead, he had a short vision of a shadowy figure without a reflection and the sudden desire to go to Swerve's. Rodimus shook his head and tried to concentrate on what was going on. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chief justice’s message was loosely based on this [Tumblr post](http://rushpoppers.tumblr.com/post/154742050545):  
> 


	14. What witnesses didn't see.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma decides to sneak out of the medibay with Tailgate's help but it doesn't end well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this chapter in one sitting long ago. Might as well publish it now.

    Pharma had been awake long-enough to know that Red Alert was the scrupulous head of security. Although he strongly empathized with what had occurred, he decided to take it as an opportunity to explore the ship. He had made plans with Tailgate to leave with him when he clocked out and go to Swerve’s. As expected, no one noticed Pharma leave since the alarms were disabled by the small disks he transmuted a couple of days ago.

    Swerve immediately noticed Pharma, who looked eerily familiar, but was unable to recall where he had seen him. He was aware that Pharma was one of the people they picked up from Delphi and assumed he just wasn’t the type to frequent bars. (It’s true. It took a while for Tailgate to convince him, since Tailgate didn’t know who else to invite with him. Cyclonus was reluctant to go, due to the rule banning swords which he felt was “distasteful”.)

    Sitting at the counter, Pharma said to Swerve, “Give me a milk.”

    “I only have powered milk, is that okay?” asked Swerve.

    “Yes,” replied Pharma.

    “I want milk too,” said Tailgate.

    After receiving payment, Swerve filled a medium and an extra small glass with water. He pulled out a tin of baby formula and mixed it into the glasses, serving it to them. Tailgate saw it was formula and said, “Baby food?!”

    “Who cares?” replied Pharma, as he took a sip, “It has extra vitamins and is easy to digest. Did you know the Wreckers’ leader, Springer, used to drink this like almost 30 solar cycles ago? Apparently, it was an attempt to preserve his youthful appearance, or so they claim. I thought it was odd because he was just a soldier back then and it seems silly for everyone to fulfill this request.”

    “Okay, but what if he was an actual baby back then?” asked Tailgate.

    “He couldn’t be,” interrupted Swerve. “If that was true, then that means he was a little sparkling during the war. No good Autobot would ever, ever make an innocent little baby fight in the war. Kids only got involved after they graduated from Autobot Bootcamp and were legally adults, and no longer kids. Everyone did their best to try to shield sparklings from the horrors of war, which I admit was extremely hard or impossible in some cases. I’ve been through scrap that there was no way to avoid seeing the bloodshed, so yeah…”

    “I saw bloodshed myself, but I was an adolescent,” replied Pharma, “I saw those Decepticon bastards ‘take’ and pillage Stanix, which is still under their control to this day. It was not the first time I had witnessed such horrors either. When I was even younger, necromancers raised terrorcons from the nearby necropolis and they attacked my village. I am traumatized by this and nothing will ever cure me. But now as an adult, I realize those terrorcons were mindless beings; only doing what they were told even though it seems their master had no control over them. The Decepticons, on other hand, murdered helpless civilians while they were ‘taking’ Stanix, knew exactly what they were doing. For this reason, and many others, I hate Decepticons.” Pharma paused and looked both Tailgate and Swerve in the eye. “To be fair, ‘hate’ is not a strong-enough word to describe how I feel about them.”

    “I’m sorry,” said Tailgate.

    Pharma side-eyed Tailgate, as he finished drinking his milk.

    Trying to lighten up the situation, Swerve said, “If you want, I can give you a second glass on the house.”

    “Sure,” said Pharma, as Swerve prepared him another glass.

    Tailgate thought about what Pharma had said. It was a completely different view of Decepticons than what Cyclonus had told him. He wanted to ask Swerve more about Decepticons but seeing that it was a sensitive subject for Pharma, he remained silent.

    “It’s a slow day today,” said Swerve. “Mostly because Red Alert and Trailbreaker aren’t here. Trailbreaker said that Grapple and Hoist wanted to spend the day with him since this magnetic cloud would damage their experiments. And all of them are happy together. I think I might close early and go pay Skids and Red Alert a visit.”

    “What’s that?” asked Pharma pointing at the arcade cabinet.

    “An antique game cabinet,” replied Swerve, “Red Alert played it a lot. I wanted to play it too but it flashes too much for my sensitive eyes.” He tapped at his visor, “I can’t see without these.”

    Pharma approached the arcade cabinet and lowered his visor, as a precaution. He didn’t particularly like the occult runes painted on the cabinet. He began to play the game, despite his vison getting hazy. But he couldn’t help but find the game addicting. Tailgate and Swerve watched from a distance at how quickly Pharma passed each level, until he finally beat the game. But Pharma wasn’t smiling.

    “Oh my Primus!” shouted Swerve, “You beat that game in 15 minutes and it took Skids like 2 days to win.”

    “I can barely see,” replied Pharma, who still had his visor on.

    “I’ll take you back to the medibay,” said Tailgate, who called on his trailer and made it fold flat. Pharma transformed to his alt-mode and placed the nose of his jet-mode on Pharma’s trailer. The trailer then released cables to secure Pharma. Tailgate transformed and towed Pharma back to the medibay.

    Fortunately, the doors were open because they wanted to limit using the air conditioners fearing the central cooling system would get ruined by the magnetic clouds. There was no alarm or anything to notify the medical staff that someone entered the room.

    As Tailgate helped Pharma get into the bed, Pharma said to him, “I don’t see why anyone would like that stupid game. It has no way to tone down the brightness and a toddler could beat it. I’m pretty sure my vision will improve in the morning. Goodnight.”

    It was still 7:00pm, at least according to their HUD. Tailgate replied, “Goodnight.”

    He went back to his quarter and decided to be partially truthful to Cyclonus, telling him he went to the bar for a drink.

    After washing the glasses, wiping down the counter, Swerve decided to close the bar. He turned on the closed sign and resumed sweeping the floors near the counter. As he was about to leave, he remembered he needed to turn off the arcade cabinet, unsure if being on while going through the magnetic cloud would damage it. He went to turn off the arcade cabinet, only to see that it had shut down on its own. He touched the arcade cabinet to see if it had overheated, but the cabinet was as cold as ice and the sensation sent ominous chills throughout his body. Swerve looked up and saw the figure that was painted on the side. Swerve didn’t remember seeing its sinister grin. Overcome with fear, Swerve darted to the door, taking his little bag and locking up the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm losing steam on this because it doesn't have a distinct visual look to it. How I've been visualizing it, is exactly like the comics. So it makes me feel there's not much to add even if the story is extremely canon-divergent.


	15. Dark side of imagination.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Swerve goes to pay Skids a visit and finds out a thing or two about his friend/employee.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skids is still blindfolded, his eyes haven't

    Still shaken, Swerve arrived at the medibay moments after Pharma had returned. First Aid was making headed to Pharma's room when he noticed Swerve standing in the front. First Aid went to see Swerve and checked him in manually. Afterwards, he took Swerve to Skids' new room, since he was no longer in critical condition.

    Knocking on the door, First Aid said, “Skids, you have a visitor, it's Swerve.”

    “Heya Skids! How's it going?” asked Swerve as he happily approached Skids.

    “I've been feeling better,” said Skids, “I've been trying to teach myself echolocation but it hurts.”

    “Really?” asked Swerve. “I don't remember it ever being painful. I should know, I have a Bachelor's degree in metallurgy and can't see too good, so it helps.” Swerve closed his eyes and emitted gentle chirps. Listening attentively, he quickly figured out the layout of the hospital room.

    Meanwhile, First Aid had begun to assess Skids and then left the room when he finished. He wanted to check on Pharma, because he had a bad feeling about him. Just as he was about to knock on Pharma's door First Aid heard another blood-curdling pained scream coming from Skids' room. His sirens went off at the sound, but he remembered that Skids was attempting echolocation.

    Skids reached over and tried to grab his water pitcher because the screaming was hurting his throat. Swerve handed it over to Skids and said, “That's not how you do it. It's like this." Swerve chirped sweetly at Skids and paused to listen. "Maybe you need to get your ears checked. You may be lacking the required hardware to visualize sound. I needed to get a chip replaced so I could be able to hear."

    Skids looked through his subspace and pulled out a harmless radar gun. Something he'd use in the time being and not further hurt his throat. Swerve moved over to get a better look at its screen. Skids gently touched it to get a feel for the buttons. Having figured out the device, he activated it and it showed 6 dots located in the medibay.

    “What's that?” asked Swerve, looking at the radar gun. 

    “It is a device that detects lifeforms, replied Skids, “I still don't know why I have 2 in my inventory, but they've helped me to cope. I felt as if I was trapped in a panopticon.” He noticed the confusion on Swerve's face and added, “It's like a prison that makes you feel like you're being watched all of a sudden. This is where the radar guns have come in. When I suddenly feel like this, I turn on whichever one I pull out first and know if I was hallucinating or not. Though I can't see the screen, I know this device makes faint beeps whenever it touches a dot as it cycles through. There's six of us here at this hospital, right?”

    Holding up his hands, Swerve replied, “Let's see…Me, you, Dr. First Aid, his medi-droid, and two other patients.”

    “Alright, I'm so relived,” said Skids. “I thought it was that mech. A purple big-footed creep who's been harassing me. Not sure when it started, but he's been accusing me of unspeakable crimes and threatening to report me to the Tyrest Accord enforcers, unless I helped him do things.” Skids realized he had said too much, but the mysterious mech was no longer nearby observing him. “He wanted me to hack into appliances and install random coding in them. So far, I hacked into a microwave, the cash register, and the coffeemaker. But a few days ago, I was doing inventory when he suddenly came up to me and demanded I hack into the ship's security systems. Can you imagine the nerve of this mech?! I refused because Ultra Magnus, the Duly Appointed Enforcer of the Tyrest Accord, is also in charge of security. So tampering with it would get me into trouble. But without warning, the mech pulled out a pen and injected it into my neck and I…I remembered my past! And everything went black.”

    Swerve had seen the security footage of that fateful day when they found Skids collapsed on the floor. However, Skids was alone the entire time. The video only showed him screaming in pain and losing his balance.

    “I think you have an appointment with Rung tomorrow,” said Swerve, “maybe you should tell him what's been going on or at least tell him about those horrors or whatever. This reminds me of the time I saw the DJD combiner, he was scary. Basically, just a really big version of Tarn but scary instead of sexy.”

    “Tarn?” asked Skids since that name sounded familiar. “What kind of name is Tarn? That's a city-state. The one where Megatron was born, to be exact!”

    “Yes but it's the codename of the infamous DJD leader!” replied Swerve. “As much as I hate the mech and everything he stands for, I cannot bring myself to hate those delicious thighs.”

    “Delicious?” asked Skids who pulled out what appeared to be mnemosurgeon needles from his right hand. “I remember seeing Chromedome using these needles to probe memories and realized that I can do it too.”

    In the spur of the moment, Swerve got up on the bed and allowed Skids to probe him. Skids saw Tarn from Swerve's perspective and found himself mesmerized by his legs. However, since the connection was two-way, Swerve became aware of Skids' particular thoughts on the matter.

    “For the love of Primus, Skids, chill…” said Swerve’s disembodied voice.

    At that, Skids carefully pulled out his hand and retracted the needles. He felt his face hot and hoped that Swerve wouldn't notice. The last thing Skids wanted to do is offend someone he considered a friend, who also happened to be his boss. Fortunately, Swerve didn't notice since he was shocked with how quickly Skids' mind went into the gutter. (Swerve had only dreamed of sitting comfortably on Tarn's lap.)

    Trying to change the subject, Swerve said, “Guess what? Someone beat your high score on that game today.”

    “Who?” asked Skids.

    “I don't know his name, but he's one of the new medics,” said Swerve. “He finished it in 15 minutes.”

    “That's impossible,” said Skids, “The game is at least 1 hour long and you can't speed-run old games like that.”

    “I guess he did and temporarily went blind,” replied Swerve, “Tailgate had to bring him back here to the medibay. I guess to get him checked out.”

    “Wait a minute,” said Skids, who pulled out his radar gun and turned it on. Once more, 6 dots appeared on the screen. “There should be 7 of us here, not 6. The two other patients are civilian; the comatose guy and the new guy, but the new guy arrived yesterday.”

    “Maybe he left,” said Swerve.

    “Okay, but take this with you,” said Skids as he handed his spare radar to Swerve. Swerve looked at it and it had Skids' name written on it with permanent marker, just like Skids' other belongings.

    Swerve bid him farewell and tried to tuck Skids in bed before leaving.

    As he was leaving, he heard someone approach him and turned around to see First Aid. First Aid noticed the gun and sighed in relief when he realized it was just a harmless radar gun and not an actual weapon.

    “Where did you get that?” asked First Aid.

    “Skids gave it to me,” said Swerve as he handed it to First Aid, to inspect.

    First Aid turned it on and saw the dots on the screen. With a scowl, he turned around and knocked on one of the doors, “Pharma, are you there?”

    “Yes, what do you want?” snarled Pharma, who was just starting to fall asleep.

    “I just wanted to check that you were still there and no, you know, planning on sneaking out,” said First Aid. “Because that's illegal.”

    Recognizing Pharma's voice, Swerve stayed quiet.

    “Let me sleep!” cried Pharma who angrily covered himself with blankets and turned around in bed.

    First Aid pointed at the screen, “You need to get this fixed. It didn't detect Pharma and he's in his room. Maybe Brainstorm or Perceptor can fix it.”

    “I'll think about it,” said Swerve as he left, “Good night, 'Aid.” Swerve hurried back to his room, upset about not telling First Aid that Pharma had just returned from the bar. And suddenly, it hit him. Pharma looked just like the mech depicted on the arcade cabinet, except with medic colors. He wanted to go back and check to be sure but he was too tired and wanted to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> These lifeform-detecting radar guns Skids had were mentioned in my Luna-1 fanfic "The City of Wonder" in Chapter 35, "[Dark side of the moon](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7042765/chapters/16547530)" where Skids and his partner were introduced. In that [creepy and macabre] chapter, Skids was hearing animal noises but his gun detected no life in the surrounding area. Then his partner gave Skids his gun and it appeared that it worked better than the one belonging to Skids. Since the radar guns aren’t weapons, they weren’t confiscated from Skids.
> 
> As for Tarn, Skids would do anything for those thighs. _Anything._


	16. The Multi-Tasker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Aid finally gets the chance to read some doujinshis that someone recommended.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a filler chapter with minimal dialogue. First Aid is the multi-tasker.

    It was First Aid's turn to work the night shift. As medical personnel, he was allowed to keep his phone and tablet, taking advantage of it and writing more of his Wreckers fanfics. First Aid was the most popular Wreckers fanfic author and for this reason he felt bad he couldn't update his work regularly. He hated letting everyone down. The last time he uploaded, he found one private message written by an anonymous fan. It was a link to a Decepticon doujinshi website. The message claimed that the doujinshi artist wrote the best Wreckers doujinshi and that perhaps seeing this work would inspire First Aid to write some more. First Aid bookmarked the link and replied to the message telling the fan that he had difficulty uploading due to the fact the internet was bad where he was stationed. And after 12 attempts, the reply was finally sent. However, First Aid forgot to check out the link until now that he was alone in the medibay.

    First Aid knew Decepticon script because Ambulon taught him, and he taught Ambulon the Autobot script in return. Since the artwork was explicit, First Aid was forced to create an account to view the art. From the looks of it, this Decepticon Wreckers artist, whose username was “toketron420” had last updated very long time ago. The account was practically abandoned, which First Aid thought was a shame because the artist seemed very talented. First Aid put a quiet alarm on his phone every time he needed to do his rounds, so he could take a break from reading the doujinshis.

    Right away, the doujinshis had a completely different feel compared to the Autobot works; rather than portraying the Wreckers as righteous heroes, they portrayed them as a group of pessimistic thugs. It was understandable, _toketron420_ was a Decepticon. Also, First Aid was not prepared for how utterly depressing the stories were. The Wreckers struggled with their own inner demons and had a very bleak outlook on their future as they drank away their sorrows. (Very stereotypical Nyonian behavior, which seemed absent from Fisitron's Datalogs.) Then the Wreckers proceeded to have drunken but sensual interface, but First Aid was so upset over their plight he couldn't get off on any of it. However, he became addicted to the doujinshis. First Aid was so impressed with the 3 doujinshis out of 27 he read that he decided to follow _toketron420_.

    Inspired, First Aid decided to write while he waited. He changed a couple of his works in progress since he liked the angle _toketron420_ was going for. The Urban-Gothic aesthetic the artist depicted in the doujinshi gave it that grit that was missing from many of the Wreckers fanfics that First Aid had read before, including his own. First Aid managed to write around 4k words in a single sitting. Mostly out of anguish because the doujinshis left him emotionally drained. Why did the artist have to make them so sad? So instead he wrote happy fanfics of his self-insert characters (he had two; a warrior and a medic) snuggling and trying to cheer up the depressed Wreckers. He was so focused on his work he failed to realize that Ratchet was going to take over for the morning. Ratchet would notice First Aid's flustered face right away. After calming down, First Aid put away his tablet and resumed his work.

    He couldn't help but feel haunted by the stories despite being somewhat inaccurate and out of character at times. He had read in the user comments that everyone else praised the artist for his historical accuracy. But none of it was even close to what First Aid had read in official documents. He couldn't really blame the artist, it would be suspicious of him to be reading the datalogs which doubled as Autobot propaganda. Also, First Aid was a bit irked that the Wreckers wore Decepticon insignias and had slightly different names but that too was understandable. Other doujinshis and fan art he had seen of the Wreckers…Destroyers…showed them like Decepticons too. ("Destroyers" because the Wreckers' war cry “Wreck N Rule” was translated to “Destroy and Dominate” by the Decepticon circles.)

     When Ratchet came to take over, he suspected nothing. First Aid gave report and returned to his room and continued to read more doujinshis until his head grew heavy and he passed out.

    As he began to dream, a thought occurred; why was Springer shown as a sparkling? Not just any sparkling but one with an indeterminate shape as if he were the result of parents with two completely different alt-modes. Springer was a bright eyed baby who seemed to cheer up the adults around him. Broadside was also shown as a sparkling too but he was much older than Springer and was protective of him. First Aid was unable to enjoy the cuteness of the sparklings because it was mentioned in the text that they only knew of the horrors of war and were essentially robbed of their innocence since Autobots liked to make sparklings fight in the war due to their savage nature. The text blurb was so unnecessary but then the artist seemed like he loved to be extra.

    Meanwhile, Ambulon entered the room because First Aid forgot to return the keys to the supply room. He saw First Aid lying down with a tablet on his hand. Curious, Ambulon looked at the tablet's screen to see a picture of Twin Twist covered in goo but he wasn't sure what was going on because the whole page looked trippy. It was as if the artist had done some recreational drug to come up with that odd scenario. Feeling like he had more of his spark drained from him, Ambulon took the keys and returned to the medibay.

    Along the way, Ambulon ran into Tailgate who was also on his way to the medibay. Tailgate noticed Ambulon's uncomfortable expression and asked, “What's wrong?”

    Ambulon was not in the mood to describe the weird porn he saw on First Aid's tablet. “I'm tired.”

    “Okay,” said Tailgate as he punched in and went to throw away the garbage.

    Ambulon caught up with Ratchet and handed him the keys. Ratchet noticed Ambulon's demeanor but said nothing. He couldn't help but feel bad for Ambulon having to see strange porn so early in the morning but he also wasn't in the mood to speculate on what it could be. He had work to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was inspired by a conversation I had with [Aleaiactaest](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Aleaiactaest) earlier today. However, that was a result of a dumb concept of mine where Xaaron asked Tyrest to translate Decepticon messages during the Great War. (Tyrest is fluent in Autobot and Decepticon script. Especially, since he’s the one updating the Tyrest Accord for both factions to read.) Then the conversation turned to Xaaron wanting Decepticon-written Wreckers doujinshis translated. (The ones Xaaron had were small printed copies taken from Decepticon soldiers.) And that’s why these exist now.
> 
> In this case, First Aid was shown these by a random fan who linked to some of the original unprinted/uploaded ones. Despite what many refused to admit, Autobots and Decepticons looked at each other's fanworks. But then, this is just world building where I want them to be self-aware.
> 
>  **(28, FEBRUARY 2018) EDIT** : Here is something written in [_toketron420_ ′s style](http://archiveofourown.org/works/13821957).


	17. Villain by another name.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skids and Pharma briefly discuss a common enemy who ruined both of their lives. Later, Skids is allowed to remove his bandages because he quickly learned to adapt to his new eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An encounter few wanted between Skids and Pharma but definitely not like this. Not like this.

    The next morning, Tailgate returned to the medibay to check on Pharma. He couldn’t help but feel responsible for Pharma’s temporary vision loss. Pharma was sitting upright in bed and his vision seemed to have recovered, since he was anxiously looking around. He looked at Tailgate and said to him, “You wouldn’t have time to talk, would you? I need to vent.”

    “Sure,” said Tailgate, who used his trailer to climb up to a seat next to Pharma.

    “I dreamed about that sparkling last night,” said Pharma, “the one who was killed by the terrorcons. It should’ve been me; I should’ve gotten killed, not him. He had the bright future.” Pharma stopped and thought about telling Tailgate the rest of the dream. In the dream, this sparkling had grown to be a rumbustious minibot and accused Pharma of killing him. Pharma looked at his silver badge, which he wore as a reminder of the sparkling’s death.

    Tailgate noticed Pharma looking at his badge and said nothing. Pharma was distraught, and Tailgate couldn’t even imagine what he could possibly say to comfort him.

    Sighing, Pharma reiterated, “It should have been me.” The fact Tailgate was staring at him, made Pharma more uncomfortable than he already felt. “What the hell are you staring at?”

    “Your eyes look different,” said Tailgate.

    “I was crying last night and earlier this morning,” said Pharma.

    “No, I see weird lines in your pupils,” replied Tailgate. “Hold on.” Tailgate got off the chair and went into the bathroom. He left the bathroom and headed outside where he ran into a medi-droid. “Can you give me a mirror?”

    The medi-droid went to the supply closest and brought back a cheap, disposable plastic mirror. Tailgate told him thank you and went back to Pharma’s room to show him. Pharma got the mirror and looked at his youthful reflection. Although his vision was horribly blurry, he saw the lines Tailgate told him about. “Tarn must’ve done this to me. He was around me when I was unconscious. The lines there are for mind-control and Tarn told me he was going to make me a Decepticon no matter what.”

    “Is there any way to fix this?” asked Tailgate.

    Pharma thought about it but had a sudden, sickening feeling at the thought. However, he realized the feeling only existed to discourage him from attempting the experimental cure he had in mind. “There’s two methods but both involve having my eyes removed.” Pharma noticed Tailgate moving over to reach for the call bell. “Don’t.”

    “But we must tell Ratchet,” said Tailgate.

    “I said, ‘Don’t,’” replied Pharma, “I have this under control.”

    Just then, the door opened, and Skids walked in, still blindfolded. He was holding a pitcher and said, “Can you get me some ice?”

    Tailgate got out of the chair and took the pitcher from Skids. Halfway down the hallway he realized what he had done, but was too embarrassed to go back. Meanwhile, Skids stood at the door in Pharma’s room. Despite appearing so calm, he couldn’t help but be paralyzed in fear. Skids sensed the malevolent entity, who had been haunting him, nearby. He wanted to flee but at the same time, he detected Pharma, an anxious bed-bound patient who seemed to be aware of the entity too.

    “Where is he?” asked Skids, “Not Tailgate, the other one.”

    Pharma narrowed his eyes. “No one is here but both of us. Though, I suspect this may have to do with eye-damage. Tell me, have you ever run into a large purple Decepticon tankformer before? Specifically one who wears the symbol of The Fallen as a mask and has gorgeous thighs but with the worst personality imaginable?”

    Skids couldn't remember whether or not it was a dream or a real memory of an event he experienced, but a mech fitting Pharma's description came to mind. “Yes, he called himself 'Tarn' but others were calling him 'Damus' but it seemed like an inside joke because they often whispered, 'Damn, he's fine…' among themselves when he walked by. It weirded me out because I distinctly remembered knowing someone named Damus in my college days but he was a minibot empurata victim. He was a little sweetheart, though I wouldn't trust him with anything valuable because he had a talent to break things.”

    “I went to college too, to study medicine but then I couldn't really think of any other way to leave my village in Stanix,” replied Pharma. “Sometimes I regret becoming a doctor but then, I can't think of any other field where I can practice alche…chemistry in peace.”

    “I think I know some alchemy,” said Skids, “but I'm not sure anymore. Ratchet and Rung, the doctors here, believe I was brainwashed into forgetting most of my life. I know they're worried but like I think it's probably for the best.”

    Although Pharma's vision was still pretty bad, he could see that Skids wasn't exactly a good person. In fact, Pharma immediately regretted venting to him too. But he hoped that Skids was still forgetful and wouldn't remember their conversation. Unfortunately for Pharma, the more Skids was around him, the more his memory seemed to be clearing up. (To be fair, this also happened when he was around Rodimus too.)

    Meanwhile, Ratchet walked down the hallway holding his young sparkling, Undertone. He noticed Tailgate walking down the hallway with a pitcher of water and then saw Skids standing in front of Pharma's room talking to him.

    At this point, Pharma was trying to move away from the awkwardness and said to Skids, “Yesterday, I tried to play this game at the bar. It was the easiest game I have ever played. Like I beat in in 15 minutes or something.”

    “What the…?” asked Skids, “It took me like several hours and it was maddening.”

    “It shouldn't be?” laughed Pharma, “All you had to do was fire at the left side and the triangles moved out of the way. You only needed to hold down on that one button and not touch the others. It hurt my eyes though.”

    “What hurt your eyes?” asked Ratchet, upon overhearing the last part of the conversation.

    “Hideousness,” replied Pharma.

    “That game at Swerve's,” said Skids innocently.

    Without warning, Pharma muttered angrily as he pointed at the blue blob, which was Skids, “I hope you die a pointless death for betraying me.”

    Ratchet looked at Pharma, unfazed by Pharma's talent to incriminate himself. At the same time, he was surprised that Pharma didn't use the opportunity to make a dramatic escape but instead played an arcade game at Swerve's Bar. Taking a deep breath, he said softly, “Pharma stop.”

    Skids was shocked by the threat, that he retreated back to his room. Ratchet placed Undertone on Pharma's lap and went to comfort Skids. He then walked Skids to a nearby chair and helped him take a sear. Undertone chirped as he observed his carrier help the random patient. Pharma looked at the sparkling, who reminded him a bit of Ratchet but possibly looked more like his sire. Undertone turned to look at Pharma as if to tell him something but didn't say anything.To Pharma, the sparkling was either shy or had speech problems. Ratchet returned and picked up Undertone.

    Smiling, Ratchet said, “Pharma, I'd like you to meet Undertone, my youngest son.”

    Undertone reached over to shake Pharma's hand. Pharma took it and shook it. Undertone went back to nuzzling Ratchet's chest. Ratchet then continued to talk about his young son. His intention was to get Pharma to open up to him and perhaps tell him what was upsetting him. However, Pharma was more curious as to why Undertone didn't want to speak and even assessed him but found nothing wrong. At least Pharma seemed less hostile towards him, which was a start.

    At one point, Ratchet let Skids hold Undertone too but that was because he wanted Skids to sit still while he removed his bandages to assess his eyes. Ratchet was surprised that Skids' new eyes had already turned to his natural yellow color. But his eyes were still sensitive to stimuli. Thinking fast, Ratchet said to him, “Okay Skids, I need you to dim your eyes while I go get you a clip-on visor.”

    “Do you mean like this?” asked Pharma as he held one up for Ratchet to see.

    Ratchet was going to ask Pharma how he found one but noticed his whitish blood dripping down Pharma's pinky finger. Ratchet got it by its clean end and then disinfected it with an antiseptic wipe before applying it to Skids. The visor itself was a lot sturdier than the ones available in the supply closet. Then Ratchet turned around and bandaged Pharma's finger. He held on to his hand and said to him, “Thank you.”

    Pharma's face turned from slightly surprised when Ratchet got his hand to expressionless. Ratchet let go of Pharma and picked up Undertone, before helping Skids back to his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Skids seemed to have imagined his encounter with Tarn at the Grindcore in this AU, since Quark is very much alive. And yes, the incident has been reduced to nothing more than an unpleasant fever dream because I thought it wasn't tasteful.
> 
> Pharma transmuted the clip-on visors with some napkins he had on the nightstand. It was something simple to make since the clip-on visor is a disposable one, therefore not valuable but still Skids is likely to keep it.


	18. To make peace with death.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conclusion (I hope) of the Brainstorm/Pharma saga.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter sounds edgy, but I promise you it's not.

    After finally flying through the magnetic cloud, everyone got their phones back. The first thing Brainstorm did was return to the medibay, with his briefcase. Just to be safe, he went to look for Pharma, and after finding him, he went back outside and acted as if he just arrived. Tailgate was there, receiving admissions and handed him a visitor’s pass. Brainstorm made his way into Pharma’s room and knocked on the door.

    Detecting that it was Brainstorm, Pharma said, “Come in.”

    Brainstorm walked in and said, “I need your help again. I need to install these new nodes on Quark.”

    “Let’s do this!” said Pharma, who got out of bed. He had deactivated the alarm beforehand. He saw Brainstorm with his arm outstretched and held his hand. But something was strange, and he practically felt Brainstorm’s hand liquefy in his grip.

    After time was stopped, they made their way to Quark’s room and Pharma assessed Quark, who appeared to have improved. Brainstormed leaned over besides Quark and whispered something in his ear, before taking off his mask to give him a soft kiss on the cheek.

    Pharma said nothing as he began the procedure. After finishing, Brainstorm resumed time and turned on Quark’s holomatter avatar to see if it functioned. When Quark appeared, Brainstorm let out a sigh of relief. However, the new nodes that Pharma had implanted were more powerful than the previous ones. They detected electromagnetic fields that were undetectable before. Although everything seemed fine for the average person, Quark saw two wraiths standing over him. Both of them eerily familiar.

    One looked like Brainstorm, except he was long dead, and his arms were badly burned. The other was a short spectral entity with puncture wounds on his neck. Though they initially shocked Quark, he realized that there were only two other people in the room, besides himself – Brainstorm and the other surgeon. Composing himself, he made the avatar say, “What did you do? The two of you look like creepy undead monsters.”

    Brainstorm and Pharma looked at each other nervously. Without hesitating, Brainstorm pulled out a tablet and edited a couple of lines of code. For Quark, the aura of the room changed and his guests looked normal again.

    Checking his watch, Brainstorm said, “Aww, I have to leave but I’ll be back later.” He grabbed Pharma’s arm, which burned his hand and made his way out of the room.

    When they arrived in Pharma's room, Pharma asked, “Can I take a look at your hand?”

    Brainstorm showed Pharma his hand, but the burns were already healed. Playing it off, Brainstorm asked, “Are you going to read my future?”

    “No, I don't believe in that,” replied Pharma, “I thought your hand was burning but I guess it wasn't.” After exchanging an awkward laugh with each other, Brainstorm left the room and returned to Quark's room. The door was opened, and Brainstorm became afraid that he carelessly forgot to close it. In the security cameras, the door suddenly being open in the next frame would cause a panic to anyone who was reviewing the footage.

    Out of curiosity, he looked inside and saw Perceptor there. He usually left the door open because he preferred the room to be dimly lit. Perceptor silently held his older brother's hand like he had the past two days but something was different. Turning to Quark, Perceptor asked, “What’s wrong?”

    Perceptor got out of his seat and got closer to Quark. He felt in his spark that his brother wanted to tell him something. Perceptor narrowed his eyes since it seemed Quark was trying to tell him something about Brainstorm. Upset, Perceptor whispered, “He was the one who removed the implants without informing me. For that reason, I requested the medibay to suspend his visitation rights as a reprimand. His lack of compassion and decision to take away your only form of contact to the outside world is unforgivable.” Perceptor sensed Quark’s apprehension and added, “I’m in shock too. I never could’ve imagined he’d be capable of such cruelty. Especially towards you, whom he claims to love.”

    Meanwhile, Quark heard Perceptor’s words perfectly clear. He was wondering why Brainstorm didn't visit him the last couple of days and couldn’t believe what Perceptor was telling him. Quark was distraught that Brainstorm took away the implants. But after thinking about what Brainstorm told him, he realized that Brainstorm acted within reason and thought Perceptor would understand as well. In fact, Quark was planning on scolding Perceptor since his implants were re-installed for reprimanding like that Brainstorm, but decided against it. The last thing he wanted to do was spook Perceptor.

    Perceptor stayed close to Quark and remained silent. He had no words to describe what he felt when he discovered what had happened to Quark and that Brainstorm nonchalantly admitted to it. For a moment, it seemed he was on the verge of reliving he nasty memories he had hoped to forget. He remembered the loud sudden noise and his carrier knocking him out of his crib and throwing a laundry basket over him, which was followed by the frightened bone-chilling screams of both his parents. He had tried to cover his ears and waited for what seemed like an eternity after the screams were silenced. Then, he made the mistake of peeking from underneath the laundry basket and caught a glimpse of the gruesome aftermath.

    Suddenly, Perceptor reached over and activated the call bell. Ratchet knocked on the door and entered when he noticed Perceptor looking away from him. “Ratchet, I hope it’s not too much trouble, but can you examine my eyes? They’ve gone out of focus.”

    Ratchet helped Perceptor to the chair and began his assessment. Microscopes have excellent vision, though they are known to lose their sight from sudden illness or extreme stress. Perceptor was also pale and his breathing was rapid and shallow. Since Pharma was moved to another room, his bed was empty and Ratchet helped Perceptor lie down. Ratchet then went over to Quark and told him that Perceptor needed to lie down, perhaps due to exhaustion. The first thing Ratchet noticed was the new implants on Quark's head. He looked to the right and saw Quark's small human avatar with his finger pressed tight against his lip. He seemed concerned and unsure of what to do.

    Nonchalantly, Ratchet pulled out his surgical kit and pretended he was installing Quark's nodes. After pretending for like 5 minutes, Ratchet said to Quark. “Can you hear me, Quark?”

    Taking the cue, Quark said out loud, “Of course. Can you hear me?”

    Their brief exchange seemed to bring Perceptor's vision into focus. Ratchet picked up the avatar and placed it near Perceptor's head. Quark's avatar reached over and attempted to pet Perceptor.

    “I am alright,” said Quark. “I admit, I was upset when Brainstorm had the implants removed but thinking about it, it was for the best. These nodes work with electromagnetic pulses and those clouds would've caused them to short-circuit – putting me at risk for injury.”

    Ratchet said to them, “I'm going to go access the other patients, if you need me or First Aid feel free to call us.”

    The brothers bid Ratchet farewell, as Ratchet decided to pay Pharma a visit. Ratchet recognized the welding job on Quark's head, it was clearly Pharma's doing. (Pharma left the solder on very smoothly, rather than leaving it as a clump to sand down later.) He figured out that Brainstorm had likely recruited Pharma, who was the only other surgeon present with the skill to install the implants, because he wasn't very questioning. (Which was something Ratchet never approved of because Pharma could easily be pressured into doing questionable work.)

    Pharma was quiet on the bed. Pharma didn't even want to turn around, since he knew that Ratchet had caught on to him sneaking out.

    “Pharma, I've been thinking...” said Ratchet, “…perhaps we were a little too harsh on you, thinking you'd flee but I don't think there's any reason for this bed alarm. You've been on good behavior these past few weeks. Though this is something that I need to talk to Ultra Magnus about and see what he says.”

    “What's the catch?” asked Pharma. “I've been accused of serious crimes, I doubt Ultra Magnus would reconsider, unless there was something else going on. Like a need, perhaps.”

    “You are right about 'needs',” said Ratchet. “We could always use more help, especially in the pharmaceutical department. Besides myself, you're the only other person here who has that capability. So does First Aid, but he didn't do too well in pharmacology. After all, medicine is your strongest ability. You have probably surpassed me years ago.”

    Pharma thought about it and was relieved that Ratchet didn't seem angry at him. In fact, Ratchet seemed pleasantly surprised though it was likely he was disappointed in him for installing the nodes on Quark without proper permission. They continued to chat for a bit before Ratchet left and called Ultra Magnus to see what his opinion on the matter was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is very loosely outlined so I keep coming back to things that should've ended because I just thought up of a brand new scenario for it. I actually was planning to wrap at 20 chapters, but the way things are going that's obviously not going to happen. But since this is one of those generally calm, laid-back stories that's not a problem.


	19. Oh, Whirl?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whirl pays a visit to the medibay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still don't understand the "Oh, worm?" meme. My friend tried to explain it but I was still confused, so please don't even try. XD

    Meanwhile, Whirl walked into the medibay and saw Tailgate sitting at the nurse’s station. Right to assume that Tailgate was assigned to be a receptionist, who had been learning Primal Vernacular with Cyclonus, Whirl said to him in Primal Vernacular, “What’s up? I’m here for my appointment.”

    Tailgate looked at today’s schedule and saw that Whirl had one, but he wasn’t assigned to any specific medic. Ratchet and First Aid were both on duty that day, so either of them could see Whirl. Due to losing his original hands as punishment, Whirl had difficulty signing the needed paperwork. (His handwriting was ugly and often illegible.) Since it was practically the two of them, Tailgate had time to help Whirl fill it out. Wanting to lighten the mood with some small talk, Tailgate asked, “One of the new medics is obsessed with the Wreckers.”

    Whirl chuckled, “Why? Does he read Wreckers porn?”

    Taken aback by the question, Tailgate replied, “I don’t know. He just talks about the battles and stuff. Then he’s sad that he doesn’t know Primal Vernacular and also annoyed because his ex-coworker, who knows it, never taught him the language.”

    “That ex-coworker sounds like a real aft-port, I like him already,” replied Whirl. He looked at the form and said, “It’s been like 2 months, I think, since my last appointment. But that was with Dr. Lifeline, the Wreckers’ medic.” (Actually, the time was almost 4 Earth years but for Whirl it seemed like a short amount of time yet felt like forever.) “Of course, I don’t have insurance. I’m a helicopter, not a car.”

    “What are you coming in for today?” asked Tailgate.

    “A ‘checkup’,” replied Whirl. “Dr. Ratchet kept glitching out about it to me.”

    First Aid arrived and sat at the nurse’s station, and saw Tailgate helping an empurata victim check in. Perhaps it was too early, and First Aid hadn’t had time to take a sip from his caffeinated concoction yet, but he didn’t realize that Whirl,  _the_  Whirl from the Wreckers, was signing in. Since he didn’t understand what the other two were saying, First Aid decided to edit one of his own fanfics on his tablet while he waited. He finally figured out how to format his work to add indentations to his paragraphs. Being a flyer, Whirl was able to see the screen on First Aid’s tablet and realized that First Aid had a fanfic account. Seeing that he was the medic likely to see him, Whirl was determined to ask First Aid for a story request.

    After signing in, First Aid approached them and said, “Good morning, my name is First Aid. Follow me.”

    Tailgate was about to translate, when Whirl replied, “It’s okay. I know how to speak this language but can't really read or write it. I’m Whirl, or as my friends used to call me, ‘Legs that won’t quit.’” He followed First Aid down the hall and they entered an outpatient room.

    First Aid assessed Whirl, who was cooperative but very intimidating.

    “I saw you editing a story on that Autobot fanfic site,” said Whirl suddenly, “Do you take commissions?”

    First Aid’s face turned red, but fortunately he wore a facemask and his head was already naturally red that it was unnoticeable. “No, but I was considering it. Did you want something?”

    “Yeah,” said Whirl, “I want Wreckers smut because it’s hard to find nowadays.”

    Pausing, First Aid replied, “People have been posting Wreckers fics, including smut, on a regular basis. In fact, they’ve gotten even more popular after this ceasefire because everyone now has time to consume and create content.”

    “Yeah but all these new ones have Springer and the other Wreckers triple-changers in them,” said Whirl.

    “Well, they’re hot, so of course they’d be in them,” replied First Aid nonchalantly. He couldn’t imagine Wreckers porn without the triple changers.

    “But they are my babies, I have raised them since they were sparklings!” said Whirl. “Seeing them and hearing about them in those types of situations makes me sick. Even more so, when they are paired with the other team members including myself. I mean, I understand that squadrons are expected to be close…but getting close like that with our own kids, why?!”

    “Wait, you’re Whirl of Polyhex from the Wreckers?” asked First Aid, as it all finally clicked together.

    “Duh,” replied Whirl.

    The revelation blindsided First Aid more than he cared to admit. However, the feeling stemmed from immense guilt of shipping the Autobot triple-changers with the other Wreckers, like Whirl had said. Though he had only written two or three fanfics of that. First Aid supported no such thing, though the datalogs he read didn’t really mention their childhood. (They were focused more on combat, than their private lives.) Most of First Aid’s more romantic work was mainly Springer paired with his own self-insert fictional Wrecker or medic. Thinking fast, First Aid asked, “Okay, if I do this request for you, will you tell me more about the Wreckers?”

    “Of course,” said Whirl.

    Since the assessment was over, and Whirl was in good health as far as empurata victims are concerned, Whirl decided to stay and hang out with First Aid. After all, the day was a slow one. As they left the room, they encountered Perceptor and Whirl said to him, “Wreck ‘n Rule!”

    Caught off-guard, Perceptor mumbled, “Thanks, you too…”

    Whirl walked away quickly with First Aid, since he didn’t want to distract Perceptor who’d start small talk with him and turn it into large talk with them catching up. After turning the corner, Whirl said to First Aid, “He was in the Wreckers too. Truly a talented sniper but then he decided to quit after Garrus-9 because he shot ‘too many’ cons or something.” Whirl shook his head in disappointment. “What a waste of talent. But then, I don't blame him for growing a greater distaste for violence."

    Whirl sat by the nurse’s station and said to him, “I’m just going to tell you this; the triple changers are younger than you might think because they’ve been aged up for legal reasons.”

    Concerned First Aid asked, “How old is Springer?” First Aid had seen him a couple of times before but was too distracted by his beautiful legs and ample bosom. Thinking about it, he did seem quite young.

    Whirl narrowed his single optic and said, “You know the captain, Rodimus? Yeah, they’re about the same age except Springer was born in the spring and Rodimus was born later in the summer. Though Rodimus should’ve been born much later in the autumn but an explosion made him be born premature.”

    “Rodimus is a baby!” said First Aid, who was hurriedly thinking about the timelines of his fics and how Springer would’ve been too young in a couple of scenarios.

    “This is all the Autobot High Council’s fault!” said Whirl. “They didn’t listen to Xaaron, who didn’t want Springer as Impactor’s replacement. Before that, those councilmen also refused to send reinforcements back when we were all sick with ballistic fever, forcing us to arm our young sparklings so they could help us. We had to ‘change’ their documents and say that they were older to be of ‘legal age’ to fight, or else they’d be taken away from us!”

    First Aid looked at Whirl uncomfortably. The first thing he blurted out was, “Who should've been the ideal replacement, instead of Springer?”

    “Mirage,” said Whirl. “He wanted to be the Wreckers leader before, but Optimus insisted that Impactor lead us instead. I think that's why they don't like each other – Mirage and Impactor, I mean. Actually, I just think it's Mirage who's still bitter. I remember back when I combined with Impactor, the Jumpstarters, and Roadbuster, that Impactor didn't have any grudges against Mirage.”

    Little did the two of them know that Mirage was on board the Lost Light. In fact, Whirl was the one who seemed to like Mirage the most out of all the other Wreckers. Whirl was mostly fascinated by the fact that Mirage was a nobleman, because Whirl like the fairy-tales about princes. As for Mirage, once he got over the fact the Wreckers were a bunch of peasants, he grew to like Whirl too since Whirl was surprisingly well-versed in etiquette.

    Ratchet had started overhearing their conversation, and grew a bit peeved with First Aid who had gotten distracted from his duties. He decided to butt in and said said, “Just so you'd know, Mirage is on board the ship too.”

    Whirl approached Ratchet and nearing his eye at him, asked, “Where?”

    “I think he's staying near the captain's quarters,” said Ratchet. “He's in an administrative position, but I'm not sure about his schedule or where exactly he works on the ship. The best person to ask is Rodimus, because he's everywhere.”

    Excited, Whirl left the medibay and Ratchet turned to First Aid. “I'll be leaving in a bit, so I need you to keep an eye out.”

    “Yes sir,” replied First Aid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is obviously inspired by the fact that Whirl being a Wrecker wasn't really addressed in MTMTE. I would think the Wreckers fanboy (First Aid) would get excited about being in the same ship with an actual [ex]Wrecker. As for First Aid's questionable fanfics, he just didn't know. (Fisitron's Datalogs focused more on combat/military history rather than the Wreckers' personal lives.) And I hope it was conveyed that First Aid plans on revising and editing his works, since the last thing he wanted to do was write something inappropriate, especially about Springer.
> 
> More things I wanted to address:
> 
>   * The Wreckers are from more humble origins. And people from these backgrounds tend to speak Primal Vernacular as their first language, since moving to Neocybex was difficult and wasn’t generally seen as a priority by the elite. (Pharma knows it for this reason because he was from a humble village.)  
> 
>   * Cyclonus, on the other hand, is one of those bilingual noblemen. He knows Neocybex because it’s expected of him, but prefers Primal Vernacular because it’s more “authentically Cybertronian”. This is the same mentality the so-called “Linguistic Purists” tend to have. This is because in this AU, Neocybex is easier for organics to learn and Primal Vernacular is difficult, if not impossible to pronounce if you're not robotic in origin.
>   * Mirage in the Wreckers is a reference to an upcoming toyline "War for Cybertron" where he was the one who recruited the Wreckers to join the Autobot faction. Since I've not written much about the Wreckers or Mirage, adding him in as a reference isn't actually any sort of retcon.  
> 
>   * Whirl being obsessed with etiquette and the prince aesthetic was meant to be a reference to this [pic of Whirl wearing a monocle while drinking tea](http://waspshot23.tumblr.com/post/110894277146/i-decided-to-look-up-the-manga-for-takaras). Because he’s a dapper gentleman and wants to keep that up.
> 



	20. Dinner and a Show

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma spends the evening with Ratchet and his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More self-indulgent Drift/Ratchet/Pharma interactions. This is why this chapter is so long. -_-'

    That evening, Ratchet invited Drift and his two young sparklings over to the conference room near the medibay. Though it was clearly against policy, Ratchet had gotten permission from Rodimus to have his family dinners there. The hab-suites were too small for Ratchet's large family (himself, Undertone, Drift, Jetstorm, and Slipstream, who were only a small fraction) to sit together comfortably. What's more, Ratchet had gotten permission for Pharma, who yet another son to Ratchet, to join them.

    Drift, on the other hand, was still uneasy about Pharma joining them. Though he should've suspected it was the case, since Ratchet ordered him to pick up an extra plate of dinner. But at the same time, Ratchet was delighted to have Pharma around and his cheerful aura filled the conference room with good vibes.

    “Yes, this is Pharma, a former student of mine,” said Ratchet proudly. “One of the most diligent and resourceful students I have ever had the pleasure of teaching; created a vaccine against ballistic fever and saved numerous lives back at Deletran.”

    Annoyed, Drift, “If you're so good, why did you end up at Delphi?”

    With a smirk Pharma replied, “Jealousy. Others were afraid of my success, so I was banished there.”

    Drift looked away and shrugged. He couldn't think of what else to say and felt somewhat guilty that he didn't want Pharma around for similar reasons.

    Ratchet knew that Pharma was lying, since he remembered Pharma eagerly volunteering to leave. But he also knew that Drift was being possessive, which annoyed him, and Pharma's reply rebuked him for it.

    “I mean, if it wasn't punishment, then there was no need for me to strike a deal with 'Tarn' of the DJD in order to get more supplies,” said Pharma. “As far as I was concerned, we were all abandoned there to fend for ourselves.”

    Gesturing, Drift asked, “Why couldn't you know…um?” He looked at his sparklings and at Ratchet's sparkling, adding, “If you're so smart, why didn't you formulate a virus that affects the transformative system, and infect the DJD with it, killing them? That way you could've gotten access to their ship and supplies, and escaped from that frozen wasteland.”

    Ratchet facepalmed and said to Drift, “First of all, that is the dumbest and most careless plan that I have ever heard anyone say. Secondly, we are medics – it is our duty to heal, not harm. Thirdly, Drift. Why would you ever think of something so awful like that?”

    Pharma scoffed, “Wasn't 'Drift' a Decepticon?”

    “Shh!” snapped Ratchet at Pharma.

    Meanwhile, the sparklings were mostly ignoring the adults' light bickering, as they passed each other the condiments. Drift, Pharma, and Ratchet resumed eating their meal.

    “Who cooks this food?” asked Pharma, since it tasted much better than the hospital food he was being given.

    “I did,” said Drift.

    “We all do, actually,” interrupted Ratchet. “There is a very large kitchen on the ship and we all go down there if we want our own meals.”

    “Okay,” replied Pharma, “Maybe we could go down there, one of these days, and see if we could whip up one of the various Stanixian rice dishes. I miss them so much.” He reached over and severed himself some more of the fried rice Drift had made.

    “Is that where you're from?” asked Slipstream suddenly.

    “Yes,” said Pharma.

    “Are the sunsets there really as pretty as the ones they show in the geography pics?” asked Jetstorm as he pulled out his tablet. He looked up the photos and showed them to Pharma.

    “No,” said Pharma, “they are more beautiful in person. Think of them like a painting, seeing the colors in person is a totally different experience than seeing them from a screen.”

    “Wow!” said Jetstorm, who was now even more interested in traveling there some day.

    “What did you think about this rice?” asked Slipstream, “I thought you were going to give your expert opinion on it.”

    “It's very good,” said Pharma, “but it's not the rice I consider comfort food that I haven't had in what seems like forever. Still, it is special in its own way.”

    Slipstream smiled because he was the one who helped Drift make it.

    Pharma took some rice and some broccoli, which was served and put it in his hand. With his other hand, he tapped the tip of his steak knife and cut his finger. Quickly, he used his blood to transmute the rice and broccoli into a powered juice mix. He dumped the powder into his glass of water and mixed it. His juice had the fresh fruity taste but was still as clear as the water. Ratchet was the only one who had seen Pharma do it. He wasn't concerned with what the powder actually was made out of because he's had to wash Pharma's pitcher on other occasions and the pitcher sometimes had a distinct fruity smell. (Ratchet had assumed that Tailgate had smuggled Pharma some sugary drink mix but it clearly wasn't the case.) He also wished Pharma would stop transmuting stuff because he worried Pharma would get an infection with his open wounds.

    After they finished eating, Pharma helped Ratchet and Undertone with the clean up in the conference room. Drift and his sparklings took the plates, cups, and silverware back to the kitchen. They put them in the dishwasher. Drift was normally distrustful of dishwashers, since they always left bits of food on the plate. However, Perceptor had designed it to scrub the dishes too so Drift trusted it. Afterwards, Drift took his sparklings back to their room and helped them get ready for bed.

    Not wanting to Pharma to sleep another night in the hospital bed, Ratchet invited Pharma to sleep over in his hab-suite that night. Pharma reluctantly agreed. Without a second thought, Ratchet handed Pharma his house keys and his young son, and went back to the medibay to inform Ambulon that Pharma was leaving with him.

    The hab-suite number was on the keys, and Pharma made his way to the room. He opened the door and put Undertone on the ground. Undertone gestured at Pharma to take him to the bathroom. Because he was still small, Pharma had to pull out a nearby stool for Undertone to stand on, so he could brush his teeth. Ratchet knocked on the door and handed Pharma a new toothbrush, so he could get ready too. Pharma accepted it and joined Undertone.

    Meanwhile, Ratchet turned the sofa-bed into a bed. He got a clean blanket and extra pillows for Pharma. He also remembered to bring Pharma a water bottle, and set it on top of the coffee table. Caught up in the moment, Pharma didn’t realize he was in the bathroom with Undertone, who was a very quiet sparkling. Upon realizing what had occurred, Pharma rushed and bolted out of the bathroom, only to be stopped by Ratchet who firmly told him to go back and re-brush his teeth. Fortunately, Undertone had left the bathroom and Pharma finished brushing his teeth calmly.

    In the meantime, he didn’t know what to say. He wasn’t used to that much affection, especially when he was growing up when he seemed to be criticized for everything he did, no matter how small. (Which made him wary about speaking about his problems to others.) However, the criticism stopped as soon as he graduated from medical school with honors. Though he felt the pressure on him to be perfect took an immense toll on his body, his reflection in the mirror looked painfully optimistic and youthful. It unnerved him. This was the reason, he didn’t want be with others around mirrors because every time he looked at his reflection, it felt as if he wasn’t looking at who he is but instead of who he once was. Nervous about lingering, Pharma left and headed to the living room where his sofa-bed was ready. After lying down, Pharma covered himself in the blanket and pulled out his phone. Since he wasn’t yet ready to sleep, he played his favorite mobile game quietly until he drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote 1127 words out of 1355 in one sitting (the beginning part, actually) just because that's how in the mood I was for this interaction. Then I forgot to upload it but I've since made that correction due to some recent events. I also got inspired to write the follow-up chapter but then, due to its content I have to hold off on it because I need a beta-reader for this nonsense.


	21. Will the real Pharma, please stand up?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma is unwell for various reasons. And to top it off, he comes face to face with terror of his own. However, he overcomes the terror by using a method that is both cowardly and reckless, but also very brave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is a train-wreck (I think this chapter alone should have upped the rating to M but I tried to tone it down) and to think it directly follows up the previous cute Ratchet chapter is mind-boggling. X_x
> 
> EDIT: I can't believe that this was the chapter that more or less was posted on the 1-year anniversary of this fanfic. This was the kind of thing I had initially tried to avoid but I guess my writing just has to be like that.

    As expected of dreamlike states, Pharma didn’t notice anything odd at first. In fact, in those few initial moments, he felt that he was awake and doing his usual morning routine. He had woken up and had breakfast, and was on his way to meet with his mentor because he had something important he needed to tell him.

    Along the way, he ran into two older mechs who had helped raise him. To Pharma, they looked awfully suspicious – and very similar to Ambulon and First Aid. It was like déjà vu. However, they were clearly not his coworkers. He had vivid memories of them arriving at his Stanixian village, breaking into his family’s home, and kidnapping him by stuffing him inside an empty sack of rice. He remembered being so frightened that he didn’t even squeak to let his family know he was being attacked. His family would somehow blame him and send him off to the gallows for punishment, at least that was what he thought they would do. He held a strong resentment towards the kidnappers and everyone else living at the compound for putting him through hell. Quietly, Pharma hid in the shadows and eavesdropped on the mechs’ conversation.

    “I don’t trust Number Nine,” said the mech who looked like First Aid. “He is as ambitious as he is egotistical, just because he doesn’t need to get his hands dirty by digging up graves.”

    “How can he dig up graves if his hands are chainsaws?” replied the Ambulon look-alike. “Even if they weren’t chainsaws, you’ve seen the kind of scrap he can do. He can transmute anything, including death to us all…”

    Pharma licked his lips. He hadn’t thought about killing everyone at the compound, but they did seem to deserve it. After all, the only thing that cleanse the bloodstains of the innocent, is blood of the guilty over it. However, something didn’t feel right, someone was staring at him. He turned around and saw his doppelgänger with a smug look on his face. He seemed familiar for some reason.

    “You and I are not so different,” said the doppelgänger calmly.

    “I don’t know, this urge to kill everybody here feels kind of wrong,” whispered Pharma.

    “That is to be expected, you are a trained medical professional,” replied doppelgänger. “You’re thinking like one right now, diagnosing everybody. Well, I’ve done that too. I’ve diagnosed everyone here, but you and I, as dead. Step aside.”

    The doppelgänger walked up to Pharma and pushed him out of the way, seemingly retaking control of his own body, while Pharma’s spiritual essence looked on. The doppelgänger pulled out a vial from his subspace and decided to head to the kitchen instead. Realizing that he planned to poison everyone, Pharma pleaded, “You’re going to get in trouble. They will kill you if they find out, well the survivors who aren’t here right now.”

    “You’re right,” said the doppelgänger, “I’ll poison them all with the extended-release formula instead. Their bodies will metabolize the poison at different rates that it’ll appear as if they were killed by an unknown disease. Brilliant.”

    Pharma watched as the doppelgänger transmuted ten vials of the poison right before his eyes. It disturbed Pharma that he knew the exact recipe by heart, almost. They made their way to the kitchen. Somehow, it was left unattended and the doppelgänger casually opened several barrels and dumped the poison inside each of them. The poison was so light that it quickly mixed into the contents of the barrel. Satisfied, the doppelgänger left the kitchen.

    “Number Nine,” said another familiar voice behind them.

    “Good evening, Master,” replied the doppelgänger.

    “What are you doing here?” Asked the master, “I thought you went to search for bones with some of the others. You were awfully quiet.”

    The doppelgänger and spoke to his mentor amicably about occult practices as Pharma looked on. The mentor sounded much like his own mentor – Ratchet, which just made the conversation more difficult for Pharma to overhear, despite trying his best to ignore it. Upset, Pharma whimpered and said to the doppelgänger, “…I… Don’t want Ratchet to be a bad guy, but…I know a lot of people are jerks. For the love of Primus, please stop…”

    The doppelgänger, of course, chose to ignore Pharma. (After all, the doppelgänger was clearly not a Primalist or a Neo-Primalist. So Pharma’s pleas fell on deaf ears.) Suddenly, Pharma came to a realization which made him stagger back in disgust. It seemed the doppelgänger was sleeping with his mentor, whom he saw as a parental figure of sorts just as Pharma saw Ratchet. Because of this, Pharma figured out he was dreaming, since the thought of it was so abhorrent that it made him regain partial-consciousness. Being braver in dreams than in real life, Pharma walked up to the doppelgänger and pushed him out of the way.

    He looked at the mentor and said to him, “Begone thot!” And blasted him with a laser-beam attack that came out of his eyes, exploding him like how random things explode in the cheesiest of movies. At that, the strange cult compound disappeared and Pharma was back at Ratchet’s room, standing up next to the sofa bed. Pharma was also slightly dizzy, so he grabbed onto the sofa bed for support. 

    The doppelgänger glared at Pharma. Angry that Pharma took control of the nightmare and dumbed it down to where it fell apart, and offended that Pharma used an old irrelevant meme in the process; it was like adding salt to his wounds, adding insult to injury. As for Pharma, he didn’t care as he grinned smugly. But something wasn’t right, he was clearly awake yet he wasn’t alone. Without turning around, Pharma asked, “You’re not First Aid, Ambulon, or Ratchet. Who the hell are you?”

    Realizing Pharma was seemed to be immune to his trickery, the doppelgänger said, “Someone who would kill to meet you.” His voice was obnoxious and high-pitched; he sounded like a stereotypical jester.

    Pharma tried his best to play it cool, despite the fact he would’ve leaked fluids if his exhaust would’ve been somewhat full. However, he wasn’t in the mood for strange mind games that he berated the doppelgänger, “That doesn’t answer my fucking question!”

    “You’re a feisty little bitch, I like that,” replied the doppelgänger, annoyed that Pharma completely ignored the dream he just had, “you’re different than others I’ve encountered before. It feels as if we met before; as if we were meant to be. Your body and mine are compatible in every single way imaginable. What do you say? Do you want to become one with me?”

    Enraged, Pharma’s eyes burned even more and he wept what felt like blood. Unable to see, he turned to face the stranger. “Get the hell away from m–”

   “–How about, no?” interrupted the doppelgänger. “Your body will be mine whether you like it or not. I’ve spent too much time disembodied; it feels like literal astral decades. This ship has warped many times that I have lost count of the time. It’s driving me mad. Just when all hope seemed lost, you appeared; the perfect vessel.”

    Clutching his fist too hard that his hands went numb, Pharma uttered, “I’m doing to tell you what I told Tarn. If you touch me. If you fricken’ touch me…I will cut you.”

    Unimpressed, the stranger replied, “I just told you I don’t have a body, you dumbass! You can’t cut me! It’s impossible!”

    “Nothing is impossible if you’re lucid dreaming!” replied Pharma smugly, who continued to strain his mind trying to wake up. He muttered, “The lights turn on and this disembodied piece of shit goes back into the fourth dimension, leaving me the fuck alone…” As me spoke, Pharma went back to the bathroom. There, he started washing his hands in the sink with lots of soap as he stared at himself in the mirror, hyperfixated on his own reflection as if he was scanning himself to detect any abnormalities.

    “This isn’t a lucid dream!” replied the doppelgänger, who seemed to follow him to the bathroom. “I am trying to possess you through your eyes. You can’t do anything about it because my orders are carved in stone, so to speak. I originally wanted to scare you into killing yourself but then I realized that perhaps you are most definitely m…NO!!!”

    He had not realized that Pharma transmuted a pill that would raise his blood pressure, while he was supposedly washing his hands. Not only that, but that Pharma was crazy-enough to swallow the pill without drinking anything along with it. The doppelgänger tried to use his powers to force Pharma to regurgitate the pill, but it didn’t work. (Pharma had swallowed it like a seagull swallowing a hotdog. That pill was gone.)

    “Who’s the dumbass now?” laughed Pharma, who immediately screamed as the blood pressure was too much for his eyes that the vessels exploded, causing him to go blind and bleed from his eyes. However, something about the fact that his blood was holy energon, seemed to have an unintended side-effect on the engraving, causing it to crack.

    The doppelgänger vanished, but as soon as he did, Pharma felt someone rush to the bathroom and turn on the lights, which further irritated his eyes. This time, it was actually Ratchet and Pharma threw himself backwards and almost fell into the shower, away from the mirror. Ratchet saw Pharma’s bloody eyes and helped Pharma stand up, asking him, “What happened?”

    He then proceeded to scan Pharma himself, to see how he could help. Right away, he darted to the medicine cabinet and pulled out a syringe and some disinfectant wipes. He cleaned Pharma’s left forearm and injected him in a seam. Afterwards, he got moistened towelettes out of his subspace and gently wiped Pharma’s eyes clean.

    Pharma said to Ratchet with his voice quivering, “I don’t know if I’d survive this but I wanted you to know that blinded myself with an overdose of that ‘virility’ drug. He told me he was trying to hack into me by using my own eyes. So, the first thing I did was transmute the pill from the hand soap to stop him. I can’t be controlled if my eyes don’t work…”

    “Who?” asked Ratchet, still wary with what had occurred with Skids and Red Alert. He moved towards the bathroom sink and turned off the faucet.

    Due to his heightened and almost hysterical state, Pharma was too scared to describe the doppelgänger. Instead, Pharma started to cry, afraid that if he elaborated, he would get sentenced to death. Ratchet stayed with him until he calmed down. Then, he convinced Pharma to go with him to the medibay for a further evaluation. Ratchet transformed into his alt-mode and let Pharma climb on him. Both of them left the hab-suite as Ratchet hurried to the medibay.

    There, Ambulon was trying to look up alchemy on his phone, hoping he’d learn it from WikiHow because he was too scared to study Pharma’s cursed grimoire, like Ratchet had done. Seeing Pharma and Ratchet arrive together, Ambulon rushed over to help Pharma. Pharma cooperated since he knew the only feasible cure was an eye-transplant and that was exactly what Ratchet was planning to do. Somewhat remembering surgical procedures, Pharma verbally consented to the operation and signed the documentation with a flash of his spark.

    As they took Pharma to the operating room, Ratchet said, “Ambulon, since you’re not as tired as me, so I want you to do me two favors. The first is text Drift to go get Undertone using my phone. The second is to message Ultra Magnus, telling him I want to speak with him.” Ratchet then supervised Ambulon as he anesthetized Pharma. Ratchet, then ordered Ambulon to call First Aid, since they needed someone to monitor Pharma's vital signs, particularly his sparkpulse which had become arrhythmic.  Moments later, First Aid arrived, cranky that he was woken up from a lovely dream he was having. He was briefed on what had occurred, which unsettled First Aid. 

    Ratchet yawned from behind his facemask, which he wore due to proper medical protocol. “I suspect whoever attacked Skids and Red Alert also attacked Pharma. The difference is that the other two are normal people. And Pharma, on the other hand, is a reckless alchemist who tried to blind himself with that petite periwinkle pill.”

    Ambulon glanced at Pharma’s crotch plate. “Well, that explains a lot.”

    First Aid had been staring at it too ever since he arrived. He had so many questions and the briefing he was given had explained nothing. (He hadn't even noticed Pharma's bloody eyes.)

    “Both of you, quit staring!” Snapped Ratchet as he worked to install the new eyes on Pharma while Ambulon got Ratchet’s phone and texted Drift. 

    As the surgery went on, Pharma's vital signs started to normalize. Wanting to stop both Ratchet and First Aid from falling asleep, Ambulon asked, “What’s that weird thing on Pharma’s throat? I always see it in scans and x-rays.”

    “That’s a lead tracheal implant,” replied Ratchet. “Apparently, he had it done _while_ attending medical school. Not sure why and I’m still surprised by it. I thought nobody did that archaic procedure anymore, at least it was no longer a thing since I was a sparkling. It was discontinued because it messes with diagnostics.”

    “Wasn’t he from some backwards village?” asked First Aid.

    “That makes sense,” replied Ambulon.

    Ratchet sighed and continued with the surgery. It was finished without complications and at that, Ambulon decided it was time to call Ultra Magnus, who immediately answered. Worried, Ambulon handed the phone to Ratchet, who answered and locked himself in another room to speak in private.

    Meanwhile, Pharma wondered if that video game had damaged his eyes. From the few glances he caught of the doppelgänger, he resembled the figure depicted on the arcade cabinet. Realizing he couldn’t say anything about it because then the others would know he had left the medibay without permission earlier, Pharma remained silent. Ambulon was concerned because there was no way Pharma would stay so quiet unless something was deeply upsetting. Pharma always talked more than he should. Ambulon couldn’t blame Pharma either; he had no preexisting conditions for this to occur.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an attempt to pit AU!Pharma against the fanon!Pharma...who is apparently close to whatever the hell Alex Milne tried to describe here [[x](https://twitter.com/markerguru/status/1009184394844651520)]. AU!Pharma is just a regular person who is a perfectionist out of fear of death and torture. The regular Pharma is a perfectionist due to how egotistical and selfish he is.
> 
> Also, because I don't want to deal mentioning actual trademarked name medications, the real world name of the drug Pharma took is their equivalent of sildenafil citrate. Except Pharma changed to where it was extremely fast-acting and increased the intraoccular pressure.


	22. It doesn't matter.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rung studies recorded footage from Skids' vivid memory while he and the others try to get to the bottom of these mysterious attacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had to listen to [Mystery Skulls’ “Ghost”](https://youtu.be/YlEb3L1PIco) on repeat while I worked on this chapter to get in the mood. I think it was worth it.
> 
> The first part of the chapter was something I should've posted earlier but I was dumb. Rather than mess up the chronological uploading I've been doing with this story, I have included it here as a mini-flashback of sorts. I hope that's okay and not confusing. >_>;;

    Skids was helping Swerve close the bar when he heard a familiar bass beat coming from the pantry. Thinking he must’ve left the radio on overnight, he went to go look for it. He found the radio on the shelf but it was turned off. From the corner of his eye, he saw another radio, it was white and teal, with red and gold accents. Skids had never seen the radio before and went to turn it off. However, something wasn’t right despite being smoothed by the music’s funky rhythm.

    He felt dizzy and the room felt like it was spinning. Skids tried his best to reorient himself and found himself in a tropical forest. There was no doubt that he was dreaming, there was no way he could’ve gone from the ship's pantry to the forest. In an attempt to reorient himself again, Skids reached over to grab something blindly, hoping it was one of the shelves. Instead, he grabbed what felt like someone’s foot. Skids looked up and saw a strange purple mech looming over him, perched from a branch.

    The purple mech had bluish-green eyes devoid of empathy and emotion. The mech flashed a malevolent grin as he suddenly rolled back on the branch and sucker-punched Skids in the stomach. Skids let out a scream as he collapsed on the ground as his legs lost all of their strength. The purple mech stood over him and began singing along to the music in Primal Vernacular.

    Feeling like déjà vu, Skids rolled to the right. He heard the sound of chainsaw as the mech’s hand transformed into a chainsaw and cut the ground, narrowly missing Skids’ head. Unable to speak, Skids’ spark pleaded with the mech, “What did I do to you?”

    “I’ve played this out in my dreams,” sung the mech as he swung at Skids’ head again. “There’s no guarantee you’re the one but it doesn’t matter. I'll soon be free.”

    Thinking fast, Skids pulled out his wallet and threw it at the mech’s head. However, the wallet shattered the mech’s face as if it was made out of a delicate porcelain. The cracked faceplating fell on the ground to reveal a putrid skeletal face. The mech pounced on Skids and grabbed him by the throat with his now skeletal hand. The vile stench from his rotting face and hand made Skids sick. The mech smiled, purring sensually into his hear, “I’d ask you to sleep with me, but you’re not sleeping on the ground just yet.” He began to strangle his victim. Without warning, the mech jumped off of Skids and fled into the forest as the music faded away.

    Skids struggled for breath and looked up. He saw a small, round, delicate ethereal droid chirp at him. He reached out and the droid landed on his hand. At that moment, he felt a strange peace as everything was going dark. It was then when he seemed to remember where he was; Luna-1. One of Cybertron’s moons and the headquarters of the Tyrest Accord. A tear rolled down his eye as he whimpered, “Get away…” The little droid disintegrated into smoke and that was the last thing he saw.

* * *

     Rung was sitting on his couch, replaying the recording of what Skids claimed to have experienced in front of his new 32K HD TV. Thanks to the combined efforts of Brainstorm and Chromedome, they managed to recreate the Decepticons’ cortical psychic patch and had tested it out on Skids in order to shed light on his mysterious attack. Which was clearly an implanted traumatic and very vivid memory.

    Brainstorm was the most uncomfortable by it all, while Chromedome watched in delight. Rung shook his head when he looked at Brainstorm. “If you needed to step out of the room, you were more than welcome to.”

    “No, it’s not that,” replied Brainstorm, “The mech in the tree looked like an old friend of mine.” He took the cortical psychic patch and attached it to his head. On the screen appeared a black and purple jet, very similar to the one they had seen. He and Brainstorm appeared to be in an underground grotto, working on a makeshift lab. It seemed that Brainstorm had been fixated on the mech’s face, rather than what he was doing on the table. The mech had a defeated expression, and suddenly looked up, making eye-contact with Brainstorm. At that, Brainstorm disconnected himself from the cortical psychic patch and took a couple of deep breaths.

    “Who was that?” asked Chromedome.

    “An old friend of mine who ended up losing his life after we messed with the timeline,” said Brainstorm, clutching his briefcase. “Like he tampered with his younger self because he had made terrible life choices and disintegrated. Only I have memories of him. Chromedome, you would’ve loved chatting about kinks with him. He told me things that still have me shook.”

    “Like what?” asked Chromedome, who leaned in and Brainstorm whispered to him the most unnerving fetish his old friend had.

    At that, Chromedome backed away and said, “What the frag…?”

    “He was so nasty but I loved him,” replied Brainstorm. “It's not every day you'd meet a person like that.”

    “Timeline?” Asked Rung, “What?”

    “Brainstorm is a time traveler,” replied Chromedome. “He’s the reason I was able to pay for my wedding with Rewind, because he told me which lottery numbers we needed to win just the right amount. Otherwise, they’d get suspicious if we won the top prize.”

    Brainstorm quickly held Chromedome’s hand and stopped the time. “Aw man, I messed up. I shouldn’t have told Rung about the timeline. I also think I shouldn’t have done the cortical psychic patch either because seeing him again breaks my heart. I always ended up ruining his life, so that’s why I avoid him. The poor mech didn’t deserve any of this but now I wonder if I made his life worse without being in it. That creep in the ‘vision’ was clearly him and he was into some dark occult stuff. Mostly forced into it.”

    “Yikes!” cried Chromedome. “I guess we can go back and not mention him at all. You know what? Do go back and don’t mention him. I think I can solve this, trust me.”

    “If you say so,” shrugged Brainstorm.

    Going back a few minutes earlier, Brainstorm replied to Rung, “No, it’s not that. I just think the decaying scrap was just too gory and makes me sick.”

    “That’s understandable,” nodded Rung as he took down some notes.

    They continued to help Rung with the invention, when they heard a familiar knock on the door. Chromedome answered it and saw Ratchet who insisted in coming in. He was also aware of the cortical psychic patch, which bothered him at first because he felt it was too invasive since it practically violated a patient’s privacy. However, thanks to a mnemosurgeon’s expertise, they were able to pinpoint and access a specific memory which lessened Ratchet’s concerns.

    “I have another patient that I think would benefit from the psychic patch,” said Ratchet.

    “Go on,” said Brainstorm.

    “Pharma,” said Ratchet. “Last night, he was attacked. Fortunately, I was there and he immediately underwent surgery. He’s so shaken with what’s happened that he’s unable to speak but he wants to tell me everything that happened.”

    “Wait a minute, Pharma is here?” asked Chromedome.

    “Yes, he’s one of the bots we picked up from Delphi,” replied Ratchet.

    “Delphi?” asked Chromedome, “That’s the hospital where they send the lousy doctors to, right?”

    Ratchet facepalmed because he was not in the mood.

    Rung intervened and asked about Pharma. Ratchet sighed and told him what he observed and how it made him sad that Pharma was attacked. It was the first time, in a long time that he had seen his student look so cheerful only to be completely traumatized a few hours later. However, Ratchet knew Pharma was extremely withdrawn and private, despite coming off as outgoing. He hoped he wasn’t making a mistake to have Pharma probed, just to get to the bottom of these strange attacks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just more continuity mash-up what if's? Just like I love the idea of Brainstorm and Perceptor collaborating on an invention, I like the idea of Brainstorm and Chromedome working on something together.
> 
> The lottery reference was from some post I read on Tumblr a while ago, which I can't find at the moment, that said lotteries were invented to capture time travelers. This is why Brainstorm didn't try for the grand prize. XD


	23. State of the Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> First Aid and Ultra Magnus briefly discuss art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just casually bringing back something I mentioned in [Chapter 16′s end-notes](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402775/chapters/30983184#chapter_16_endnotes) as filler.

    Pharma was laying down on the hospital bed. Lethargic from the anesthetic, Pharma reached over and touched his neck. Chills ran through his body as he realized that he had nowhere to run because he had messed up and nothing could undo his massive error. As he sat contemplating his inevitable fate, he felt someone enter the room. Taking a deep breath, Pharma said, “I give up, loot my corpse to your heart’s desire. That’s what you wanted anyway.”

    “Damn Pharma, why do you have to be so dramatic?” asked First Aid.

    “What an awfully bold thing to say,” replied Pharma with a huff, as he curled up in bed. “You howl loudly over the littlest thing.”

    First Aid gasped, “That’s not true!”

    “Hmph!” scoffed Pharma as he allowed First Aid to take his vital signs, so he could continue doing his rounds. Though the silence of it afterwards was awkward, Pharma would rather have that than listen to First Aid whimpering and barking like a fanatic mongrel. This was one reason Pharma retreated to his garden and secret alchemy lab in Delphi. 

    A bit later, First Aid was busy working on his charting when his phone made the email notification sound. First Aid decided to check it because it came from his work email. Emails there were rare and usually involved some serious matter. It was from the Decepticon doujinshi site, _toketron420_ had uploaded two new artworks. First Aid wasn’t sure what provoked a such strong reaction that he howled loudly; the fact this abandoned art account had uploaded or the fact he signed up with the wrong email. Then to top it all off, Pharma was right.

    Ratchet rushed over to First Aid, with Undertone in his arms. “What happened?”

    First Aid was too embarrassed to answer. “I…I nearly fell out of my chair.”

    Ratchet seemed to have believed him and returned to the conference room with Undertone. Since the room was rarely used, it was turned into a makeshift nursey for his and Drift’s sparklings. Drift was in his alt-mode and his sparklings were at his doors, trying to open them.

    “No,” said Drift firmly, “you’re both too big.”

    The sparklings stopped and sat down next to Drift. Drift reversed and transformed into his robot mode. Ratchet handed Undertone to Drift and returned to the medibay to look after Pharma, in particular. Drift scowled but quickly lightened his expression when Undertone looked at him.

    Meanwhile, Ultra Magnus headed to the medibay to check up on Red Alert and Skids. But most importantly, he was there to interrogate Pharma who was the latest victim, according to Ratchet who had requested the interrogation. Ratchet wanted to give Pharma a choice between speaking to Magnus or being probed by the cortical psychic patch. As expected, he arrived at the nurses' station to sign in as a visitor. Because he was so tall, he was able to look over First Aid's shoulder and saw the doujinshi he was reading, specifically one of the explicit panels that took up the entire page. Magnus' eyes widened and he cried, “Why does that look like my boss' art?!”

    First Aid, who was so focused on the doujinshi that he failed to notice Magnus looming over him, and nearly dropped his tablet out of fright. “Don't scream at me!”

    Magnus pulled out his tablet and searched through his gallery of Tyrest Accord propaganda posters and brochures. They were all divided into several folders labeled with the artist's name. First Aid had gone pale because he was convinced that Magnus was writing him up. Magnus seemed like that type of person, instead he clicked on the one of the galleries labeled “Tyrest” and showed First Aid the artwork. The artwork had a somewhat sketchy, textured look to it, but the colors were very saturated and vibrant. It was almost identical to the doujinshi. There were other drawings, mostly for the brochures, that were landscapes with a skewed perspective and even with color, First Aid couldn't tell what he was looking at. (And he had seen many alien landscapes.)

    “This can't be right!” said Magnus, “The chief justice would never draw pornography!”

    Magnus had a difficult time expressing his concern. On the one hand, the emirate and the former Wreckers' leader were conjunx endurae, therefore the marital interfacing depicted in the doujinshi was technically chaste and not vulgar at all. On the other hand, the emirate had made it very clear to Magnus and begged him to keep his relationship a secret, but this was due to old, deeply-rooted fears from the bygone Functionist Era. But at the same time, his boss was one of the most prudish and uptight people Magnus had ever met. And as far as Magnus knew, his boss wasn't really a religious mech and was probably just frag-repulsed.

    “There's no way someone else would have this exact same style,” continued Magnus, “my boss has drawn all of his life but he has never once bothered to read an art tutorial all the way through. He is worse than Rodimus in this respect and that is why his art has such a distinct look to it.”

    After realizing he wasn’t in trouble, First Aid blinked and said, “I mean, _toketron420_ is clearly Tyrestan and his page now says he lives there. The chief justice is the guy who wrote the Tyrest Accord, and had managed to get both Optimus and Megatron to sign it in Tyrest on 4/20. That’s the weed day where everybody _tokes_. This cannot be a coincidence.”

    “It is,” insisted Magnus. “The 20th of April is my boss’ birthday. And he said that both of them finally agreeing to sign it was one of the best birthday presents he had ever received. Yes, that’s so…unfortunate and I feel bad for not buying him any gifts. He has done so much for me, I owe him my life, it’s the least I could do. Still, there is no way that, that is him. I am certain of it.”

    Vaguely remembering how the chief justice looked like – a golden-crowned green angel, because he saw his photo in one of Fistron’s datalogs, First Aid decided not to show Magnus the second upload. It was a proper painting of Nova Prime and his Primal Consort interfacing. The Primal Consort appeared to be nearly identical to the chief justice, and First Aid didn’t want to get upset Magnus over the painting, which First Aid had immediately favorited and commented on it. (He wasn’t even into the Golden Age, though the painting made him curious.)

    Just then, Ratchet returned and saw Magnus coolly standing there. Ratchet waved at Magnus to follow him to Pharma’s room for the interrogation. At that, his work email made another notification sound. It was from the Decepticon doujinshi site, someone had replied to one of his comments. Since he had finished charting, First Aid went to check his inbox.

> **_toketron420_ :** ¡¡wao!! what a coment and a beautiful one at that. this makes me happy you have no idea i have been going thru some hard times recently. im glad you liked it. ¿also what you think of nova prime himself? i hope you didnt get embarrassed of posibly making the coment longer by explainin what you liked about him, just like you did of his faithful consort. that was very detailed O.o;;

    First Aid passed out and at that, he missed other notifications of _toketron420_ going through some of his translated short stories he had uploaded there and commenting on them.

    Meanwhile, Pharma sat on the bed. Although he couldn’t see, his radar detected that Magnus was there and he began to tremble. Ratchet sat next to Pharma and held his hands. “Ultra Magnus is investigating these strange attacks that have been happening recently. He is here to ask you some questions about it. Or, if you’d like, we can connect you to an experimental device that would televise your encounter with that assailant and you won’t need to say a word. But, we have to wait for tomorrow since you’re still shaken from the attack. What do you say, Pharma?”

    Pharma’s lip trembled and he whimpered. “I don’t want to talk to him…” Pharma began to sob because he assumed Magnus was going to beat him for saying how he felt. Ratchet shrugged at Magnus, who remained stoic but was hurt that he upset Pharma.

    “Let me know when you use the cortical psychic patch, I want to see it just like the recording Rung showed me,” said Magnus.

    “Will do,” replied Ratchet, as Magnus left the room and knocked on Red Alert’s door.

    “Come in,” said Red Alert, as Magnus went inside thinking about the state of the art technology that they were going to use on Pharma tomorrow. Unfortunately, the technology would never be used on Red Alert because it would creep him out and Magnus wouldn't even dare mention its existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First Aid needs to start doing a better job at hiding his smut on the tablet. The whole world can see it and this is why Pharma berated him constantly about it. Also, the dog noises because First Aid has a very canine-looking helm to me. Obviously, Pharma is the kitty who dislikes the dog noises. 
> 
> Chief Justice Tyrest has my birthday (20th of April). The only reason I did this and will justify it as such is because one of my dear friends, who loves TFP Ratchet very much and RPs as him, said that Ratchet (her RP version) has her same birthday. So why not have this AU Tyrest share my birthday? Are y'all afraid that this will end up as another of those Tyrest headcanons of mine that somehow ended up being canon? lol


	24. The Dark Dowager's Lament

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyclonus is left alone with his thoughts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If this fanfic was a TV show, each chapter would be an episode in the series. This chapter, of course, is a recap episode – well, a recap of past events not mentioned previously in this story or others I have posted to date. So enjoy this odd filler where I have tried to combine TF lore from various continuities into one big mashup.

    Meanwhile, Cyclonus was sitting at Swerve’s bar drinking a carrot juice cocktail as he watched Swerve repair the arcade cabinet and failing at it. Shaking his head, Cyclonus said to him, “Just chop it up and throw it in the incinerator. That game fucking sucked anyway.”

    “You’ve been playing this game all week!” replied Swerve.

    “I’ve got nothing better to do!” scowled Cyclonus, who then took another sip. “That shitty game was probably made by Unicron cultists because the occult symbols are accurate and they’re the only ones capable of making such a frustratingly addictive game. This is worse than ‘Fappy Bird’.”

    “I think you mean ‘Flappy Bird’,” replied Swerve, who was quickly intimidated by Cyclonus’ glare. Cyclonus knew exactly what he said. 

    Cyclonus finished his drink, left the tip on the counter, and went back to his hab-suite. Everyday, it was the same routine – wake up, have breakfast with Tailgate, have the hab-suite to himself until it was unbearable, and then go to Swerve’s before returning to the hab-suite in time to wait for Tailgate. He missed the good old, Golden Age days. Back then, he was always accompanied, either by one of the Sweeps, Scourge, or even Galvatron himself.

* * *

    Everything changed after the Ark-1 incident. Cyclonus had overheard Jhiaxus, one of Galvatron’s old friends, predict that the trip would end with everyone sucked into the Dead Universe because of forces keeping that universe at bay. Cyclonus immediately reported this to Galvatron, who was rightfully furious, but remained calm. The only one unaware of the impending doom was Nova Major because neither Galvatron nor Jhiaxus bothered to warn him. Cyclonus, on the other hand, made one attempt but Nova was an arrogant mech who did not listen to anyone beneath him. This ultimately sealed his fate, since he and the others never returned. Cyclonus, Galvatron, Scourge, the Sweeps, and Jhiaxus all escaped together in Jhiaxus’ tiny escape-pod – at least because of Galvatron’s gentle persuasion maneuver, a fusion cannon to the head. (It was “gentle” because Galvatron didn’t fire it or beat Jhiaxus with it.) After the escape, Galvatron formally broke his friendship with Jhiaxus because he was planning on leaving them all to die, if it had not been for Cyclonus. 

    Galvatron, Cyclonus, Scourge, and the Sweeps stayed together as they saw society collapse from their safe retreat to the Manganese Mountains. After all, Cyclonus, Scourge, and the Sweeps were Galvatron’s harem.

    For some reason, Nova’s young conjunx came to Cyclonus’ thoughts. Although Cyclonus never actually had the chance to speak with him in person, he couldn’t help but worry for him. (The conjunx seemed like a sweet innocent mech who was clearly too good and too pure of a person for Nova, or anyone else Cyclonus could think of since their entire friend-circle was nothing but chaotic Unicron-worshiping assholes. Obviously, as a Unicron cultist, Cyclonus and the others had their bodies reformatted.) Cyclonus mentioned his concerns to Scourge who reassured him that the now-widowed conjunx probably remarried and is living happily with a decent mate.

    Sometime later, they were contacted by Jhiaxus, who had managed to track them down. Apparently, he needed their assistance in the war effort. After having to humiliate himself and beg for forgiveness like the pathetic scoundrel he was, Galvatron and his harem decided to help. They all were branded Decepticon and fought for a bit until it seemed like Jhiaxus didn’t need them anymore. Taking a gamble, Galvatron and his harem left Cybertron and headed back to Chaar – a hellish and desolate planet where Galvatron bound his spark to. (Besides, Galvatron was convinced that Megatron, leader of the Decepticons, was his biological son whom he had abandoned and was too much of a coward to face his son’s inevitable fury. Especially since he had heard of Megatron being sold into slavery after being orphaned and forced to work in the mines, whereas Galvatron continued to enjoy a luxurious lifestyle as a hermit with his harem.)

    When the timing was “right” Galvatron and his harem left Chaar and returned to Cybertron. Their mission was simple, the planets and stars had aligned in such a way that it told them it was the perfect time to summon Unicron onto their universe. He had been trapped in the Dead Universe for eons. In fact, searching for him was the real reason the Ark-1 had departed. (The official statement was to explore an anomaly in the Benzuli Expanse, and perhaps discover new planets to cyberform.) Cyclonus’ gut-feeling told him this was a bad idea because Unicron was going to vore everybody and he tried to talk Galvatron out of it. Galvatron didn’t listen to him either because his logic circuits were irreparably damaged. (Galvatron enjoyed bathing in the plasma pools of Thrull, Chaar’s sister planet. The plasma bath made his body more powerful, at the cost of his mind.) Obviously, Galvatron failed, he was defeated by Rodimus Prime (who was simply finishing what his father, Optimus, had started) and vanished to the Dead Universe alongside Unicron. Cyclonus distanced himself from the others in the harem, immediately afterwards. He was angry and hurt by Galvatron’s demise and so were the others, who ganged up on him a lot.

    His fury only worsened when he got dragged along and wound up as part of the Lost Light’s crew. The captain was Rodimus, the one who was ultimately responsible for Galvatron’s demise. He wanted to kill Rodimus but yet, he was unable. Rodimus was nothing more than a sweet young innocent mech, who was only trying to save his people, while dealing with personal losses of his own. His fight was never against Galvatron, it was against Unicron, and he managed to defeat him. It took a while for Cyclonus to be at peace with this, but it was a surprisingly brief amount of time. Although, he refrained from speaking with Rodimus and even avoided being in the same room as him.

* * *

    As Cyclonus sat on the couch, idly typing away on his tablet, he failed to notice Tailgate return home from work and Tailgate greeting him. Tailgate didn’t think of it much and worked to start dinner. However, as he cut the onions, Tailgate began to weep. As a mech with a visor, he was immune to onion vapors but thought Cyclonus was mad at him and didn’t know what to do. As he cooked, he didn’t realize that Cyclonus had stopped playing with his tablet and was standing in the kitchen.

    Cyclonus was upset that he didn’t see when Tailgate got home, but also because he felt he was exploiting Tailgate. (Basically, treating his overworked roommate as a servant, even though Tailgate was clearly built to serve for being a waste disposal bot.) Cyclonus gasped and said to Tailgate, “Let me help.” And proceeded to forcefully take control of the dinner preparations. Tailgate was so tired that he didn’t care and went to curl up on his bean bag.

    Tailgate almost fell asleep when he remembered something and ran back to the kitchen. “Cyclonus! I have the day off tomorrow!”

    Cyclonus was stirring a pot and burned himself when he stirred the pot to briskly and a hot drop of cheese sauce landed on his finger. He wanted to scream and curse Tailgate out, but processed Tailgate’s message before the pain and somehow that calmed him. “Good. What were you planning on doing?”

    “I was thinking of hanging out with you and Whirl, because both of you have been helping with Primal Vernacular,” replied Tailgate.

    Not thinking twice and somehow forgetting who Whirl was, Cyclonus said, “That sounds like fun.”

    “Great!” said Tailgate, who then proceeded to tell Cyclonus about his day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had accidentally been posted prematurely, because I accidentally clicked on "Post" instead of "Edit" when it wasn't done yet. >_< So I had no choice but to delete and repost it properly.


	25. Prince of the Wreckers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hound and Mirage have an unexpected visitor in the evening and this visitor is very special.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not going to lie, but I tried to finish this simple filler chapter because of Lost [Light #23](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Crucible_\(Part_5\):_The_Unremembering) (TFWiki link) which came out today and the next chapter is about Pharma but not quite in the same way. So yeah...

    Mirage and Hound were in their shared hab-suite when Mirage said to Hound, “When I agreed to join Rodimus in search of the Knights of Cybertron, I was expecting to go on an adventure not just be locked up on this ship for months.”

    “That’s what happens when you’re not one of the main ones,” replied Hound.

    With a sharp glare, Mirage hissed, “What is that supposed to mean? Are you saying I’m not important?!”

    “No, it’s that you’re not actively involved in leadership roles,” said Hound. “But hey, at least you’re not at the center of when something weird happens.” Concerned, he approached Mirage and added, “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

    “You haven’t,” said Mirage, who was unsure to admit that he did overreact. He didn’t like to be in awkward situations and the conversation began to remind him of someone who made him uncomfortable. Knowing that Hound was always someone who he’d confine serious matters to, Mirage wondered whether he should tell Hound. “It’s just this talk of mains and background players…there’s no telling who is what.”

    Before he knew it, he and Hound were sitting on the couch in front of the TV. Hound was holding a box of tissues as Mirage took a couple and blew his nose with one and wiped his tears with another. They were reminiscing about old times, while Mirage took the opportunity to vent to Hound about an old nemesis who had insulted him.

    During the war, Optimus held a meeting with various important generals and squadron leaders. Among those, was the mech in question. One of the first things he did was greet Mirage as soon as he noticed him. Mirage was taken aback since the mech was clearly a tank noble and they usually don’t bother with civilians. (In fact, many of the tank nobles became Decepticon simply because they viewed the Autobots as weak and the Decepticons more accepting of their warring tendencies.) Mirage should’ve suspected that the mech was not who he seemed to be, but he was very polite. He also seemed to take Optimus’ message of freedom and equality to heart. They had spent the morning chatting but then the mech was called by Optimus, who sent him on a mission.

    Meanwhile, Mirage caught up with Emirate Xaaron, a well-known and highly respected tank noble who had attended the meeting. “You’re familiar with the other tank nobles, yes?”

       “Of course,” said Xaaron.

    “What is his name?” asked Mirage, pointing at the gold and violet gentlemech who he had spoken to earlier from the window. The mech was boarding a ship that was going to take him to his mission.

    With a smile, Xaaron replied, “That is Impactor of the Iron Fortress…I mean, Impactor of Iacon. I forget that city-names didn’t get translated to Neocybex. I see that you've met him. He's very sweet and always ready to help his friends, that is why everyone loves him. He cleans up nicely too.”

    Mirage’s eyes widened. “What?”

    “He’s usually not that polished,” said Xaaron, “but that is expected from someone who came from a humbler background.”

    “Are you telling me I’ve been hanging out with some peasant all morning?!” asked Mirage who had gone pale.

    Though the emirate appeared calm, he was deeply insulted. “Yes. He used to work in the mines…as security…”

    Mirage was upset, especially since it was Impactor who addressed him first. Nobles address commoners first, not the other way around because it was disrespectful. Mirage never felt so hurt and humiliated at the same time. Even though Impactor was ignorant of the nobles’ formalities. (Otherwise, he wouldn’t have said anything to Mirage in the first place.) Mirage was too distraught to realize that Xaaron had grown disappointed with him, especially since most of Autobot High Command were commoners and Impactor was no different.

    “…Eventually, he became my bodyguard and is now my close friend,” added Xaaron.

    The emirate’s words made everything worse. “Close friend” sometimes implied that the bots in question were lovers. However, this was usually the case when bots of different classes were romantically involved, which seemed probable. Even “bodyguard” sometimes implied that too. Not realizing it, Mirage turned invisible and he walked away in shame, without anyone seeing him. From that point on, he harbored a strong resentment towards Impactor.

    Hound listened to his story and tried to remain supportive even though he realized this was the dumbest thing Mirage could’ve been offended by. The fact he was “out-classed” by some peasant. 

    However, Mirage’s opinions about interacting with commoners and peasants has softened when Optimus had sent him on a mission to convince Nyonian neutrals to join the Autobots. He was very successful and even ended up befriending them. But then, Optimus decided it was time for Mirage to leave and in his place, Optimus assigned Impactor to take over for him. Mirage was around long-enough to see the Nyonians show reverence to Impactor as if he were a noble just like Mirage. That only made Mirage dislike him more.

     Just then, there was a knock on the door. Hound went to answer it, already planning to tell the mech that he was busy. But the mech at the door was Whirl. Remembering that Mirage had grown close to Whirl while in Nyon, Hound let him in. Smiling, Hound said to Mirage, “You have a visitor! Try to guess who it is!”

    Viscerally disturbed, Mirage asked, “Is it Impactor?”

    “No, it’s me!” said Whirl.

    Mirage’s jaw dropped. He wasn’t expecting to see Whirl or was aware he was on the ship. He got up to greet him with a hug. Hound looked on, he had never seen Mirage so happy before. Mirage pulled out two seats, one for Whirl and the other for Hound.

    “Of course I love Impactor,” said Whirl. “We all did.” Mirage’s eyes narrowed as Whirl continued. “He’s so cuddly and cute. He’s smart too. I used to think he was lying about being a poor exploited miner, because he just knew so much. But I guess Xaaron taught him some things, if you know what I mean…”

    “I know exactly what you mean Whirl,” said Mirage, who shook his head because Whirl was being horny in real life, instead of on main. ~~But real life is main, so...~~

    "I came over, mostly because I'm going to spend the day with my new friend, this sweet little marshmallow minibot, and this popular fanfic author who loves the Wreckers...sexually.” Whirl then produced an audible wink which confused Mirage, but had no choice to accept or else it would drive him mad.

    Mirage smiled uncomfortably, “If it’s the author I’m thinking of, I think I’ll pass…” He cleared his throat and looked at Hound, before continuing. “I may not have been a proper Wrecker, but I am familiar with their history, timeline-wise. Popular, usually means, they write about the triple-changers often…” Mirage gagged.

    “Don’t worry, this one ain’t like that,” replied Whirl. “He just ships Springer with his OCs. All of the porn is laughably vanilla and simple. Yes, I have read it. But I had to use a browser extension to replace ‘Springer’ with ‘Roadbuster’, so it could be tolerable.”

 “But wouldn’t there be two ‘Roadbusters’?” replied Hound.

    “Oh yeah, I had replaced ‘Roadbuster’ with ‘Rack-N-Ruin’ because these writers keep forgetting about them,” said Whirl.

    “That’s smart,” replied Hound.

    “I know,” said Whirl. “Emirate Xaaron came up with that. I miss seeing him happy, he was so cute.”

    “Dare I ask, why is he unhappy?” asked Hound.

    “Impactor was sentenced to Garrus-9,” replied Whirl. “Now that Impactor is free, he refuses to call Xaaron. He thinks Xaaron abandoned him but that is impossible. Xaaron is in love with him, there’s no way he would’ve abandoned Impactor. I’m convinced there was some bad scheming to keep them apart. I may not be able to experience strong feelings anymore, but man…Xaaron loved Impactor more than Roadbuster has ever loved me and you don’t even need to merge as a combiner team to see it. Look, if I ever see Xaaron again I’m going to kidnap him and sit him on Impactor’s lap. Then, Impactor will see that he’s being stupid and apologize to his wily old buzzard. And then, Xaaron will tell him the horrible red tape that was separating them, they’ll make up, and be happy together again.”

    “That sounds like a plan,” replied Mirage, desperately trying to be supportive but he had mixed feelings. He disliked Impactor so much, that his suffering rejuvenated him. But on the other hand, Xaaron was sad and that was something very wrong to even imagine.

    “You bet,” replied Whirl, as he audibly winked again.

    Meanwhile, Hound thought to himself, ‘How is he doing that?’

    “So what do you say, Mirage, will you be joining us in some Wreckers fun and teaching Primal Vernacular on the side, tomorrow?” asked Whirl. “Hound can come too, if you want. This is open for everyone.”

    Wanting to save face, especially because Mirage had always admired Whirl, “Of course. What about you, Hound? Do you accept this brave mech’s invitation?”

    “I want to, but I think I’m going to be subbing for Magnus tomorrow,” said Hound. “He sent me a text about an hour ago, asking if I was available. I think he’s going to be further investigating those creepy assaults. They’re going to probe the latest victim and I know Magnus feels the need to be there.”

    “Okay,” said Whirl as he shurgged. He hugged both Mirage and Hound goodbye, before he left.

    As soon as Whirl was gone and possibly out of the corridor, Hound said to Mirage, “He seems nice. I thought he was a rude and disrespectful pain in the aft.”

    “He can be,” said Mirage, “unless he thinks he’s talking to ‘royalty’. So because I’m here, he’s well-behaved. But then, Nyonians are all thuggish and naturally rude. It’s unfortunate but they’re like that.”

    Hound was actually relieved Whirl had come. Something about him, awakened more pleasant memories for Mirage and now, he was no longer bitching about dumb pointless shit and this made Hound very happy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Due to his empurata, Whirl has difficulty expressing his emotions. Since he was partially shadowplayed. This of course, had put a strain on his relationship with Roadbuster who was once his only childhood friend and eventually became his lover. So to cope, Whirl tends to project a lot onto others. Hence why he enjoys Roadbuster porn and is insistent on wanting to “fix” relationships that have no reason to be “strained”. (Obviously abusive relationships don’t count.)
> 
> Also, Whirl misses being in a rowdy ragtag group like how the Wreckers tend to be. So this is his attempt to try to make his own rowdy ragtag group.
> 
> Before I forget, the title actually refers to Impactor but don't tell Mirage this.


	26. One Thousand Lonely Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few delays, Pharma's mind is probed as part of the investigation. And as expected with just about everything Pharma is involved with, it goes horribly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to [“Instant Crush” by Daft Punk](https://youtu.be/a5uQMwRMHcs)[ feat. Julian Casablancas](https://youtu.be/qhlo1uLdziM) non-stop writing this. This is both Pharma's and the main villain's theme song because it's a nice to share with everyone. :3

    The next morning, Ratchet and Pharma walked down to Rung’s office for the cortical psychic patch. Along the way, Pharma was eerily silent even if Ratchet held his hand in order to comfort him. Trying to get him to relax, Ratchet said to him, “I know this is stressful, but I promise that only the specific details about the assailant will be made public. Everything else about you will be kept confidential. Besides, I’m going to be here with you, so you’re not going to be alone.”

    Pharma smiled weakly and nodded. He could only fear the worst. From what he understood, the mechs conducting the investigation all have been responsible in detaining the most irredeemable of criminals – including Rung. He feared his darkest secret would be revealed and Ratchet would disown him from the heartbreak. Pharma couldn’t help but feel that this would be the last time he’d ever see Ratchet again. For this reason, he continued to hold Ratchet’s hand even if he felt unworthy of it.

    They entered Rung’s office and they greeted the officers. Unfortunately, Chromedome called in at the last minute and said he was feeling sick, so he wasn’t there. But Pharma was relieved. He remembered Chromedome an ex-cop, who was one of the so-called ‘hands-on psychiatrists’ and apprentice to Trepan, the most scrupulous investigator Pharma had ever met. So Pharma had no reason to doubt that Chromedome was as meticulous as his mentor. Then there was Rung, but Rung always seemed friendly, and Pharma was the least worried about him.

    Fortunately, Ratchet had helped Pharma sign all of the permission forms the evening before. It was a good thing they did, because Pharma was so stressed, he was unable to write. Ratchet and Rung had to help Pharma sit on the divan, getting him comfortable, so they could attach the cortical psychic patch. Ultra Magnus whipped out his notes as Fort Max watched, embarrassed that he didn’t even come prepared. Fortunately, he had his phone in hand, and decided to use the notepad. Since Pharma was very nervous, Ratchet discretely injected Pharma with a sedative, which Pharma had granted permission when he signed one of the forms. The sedative relaxed Pharma so much, that he forgot he was stressed. After the others had gotten seated, Rung activated the cortical psychic patch. But first, several advertisements played.

    “Why are there ads?” asked Ratchet, annoyed and possibly offended because it seemed like they were commercializing off of Pharma’s stressful suffering.

    “This technology was very expensive to develop, so we have to play some ads to offset the cost,” replied Rung. “Besides, it’s actually much safer than what the Decepticons created. And the minute or so that passes, gives the patient and us, time to adjust to this.” Rung felt bad that he didn’t explain to Ratchet about the need for ads, but he figured it wasn’t that big of an issue.

    As soon as he felt the cortical psychic patch access his memory, (shortly after the funny commercials ended) Pharma realized something was wrong. But he was anesthetized that he couldn’t tell anyone. The memory they were viewing was not what he had seen, but at the same time, the nightmarish vision disturbed him so much that he would never see it again, if he had a choice. On the screen, it was in first-person. Pharma recognized where he was right away, it was near his village in Straxus, at night. A convenient news ticker appeared towards the bottom of the screen. It stated, “Quintesson Rebel Necropolis. Meandering Heights, Great River, Straxus.”

    “What the hell?” asked Fort Max as he turned to Magnus.

    “These small towns have peculiar and forgettable names,” replied Magnus. “This place is no different.”

    Pharma’s voice could be heard, but it sounded tired and breathy. “No…this is worse…you fucking bastard…” his voice then faded away.

    Ratchet, of course, was shocked. He never imagined Pharma to use such profanity, but the he couldn’t blame him either. After all, the cortical psychic patch only extracted his memories, not his self-control which he practiced. (At least Ratchet hoped that he did.) Magnus, Fort Max, and Rung looked unperturbed. But then, they all worked with very rude and uncooperative people, and had more malicious insults thrown their way.

    On the screen, there was nothing out of the ordinary. It looked like Pharma was searching for something in the dark, but his aircraft radar wasn’t working properly. He was alone, when suddenly he heard a voice that sounded much like his, “Looking for something?”

    “Yes,” replied Pharma, but his voice was different. It was that of a young sparkling, not much older than the Driftlets, but it was his voice nonetheless. “Have you seen my ball? It’s big bouncy and round…and new. I just got it for my birthday but if I don’t find it soon, my parents are going to yell at me…and beat me for losing such an expensive toy.”

    Magnus, Fort Max, and Rung suddenly heard a loud crunching noise but it didn’t come from the video. They turned to see Ratchet, who had crumbled up his travel tumbler with his bare hand, he appeared calm, but Magnus noted that Ratchet was very upset. Before he was able to ask Ratchet to leave the room, the adult voice in the screen replied, “You mean this…?”

    On the screen, a tall figure emerged from the shadows. Pharma was frightened because on the news ticker, it stated, “Where did this mech come from? He wasn’t on my radar. You can keep the ball, I don’t want it…but I don’t want to get slapped.” The mech was holding the ball, but Pharma could not see his face. The mech appeared to be another flyer but his body was damaged, as if he had walked out of a nasty brawl. Pharma had such a bad feeling about the mech but he also was too scared to run.

    “Yes…” said Pharma. “Can I please get it back…I need to go back home with it.”

    “Are you sure about that?” asked the mech.

    Pharma froze and the news ticker went blank. A few seconds later it stated, “I don’t know.”

    “If your parents threaten you and beat you over a stupid toy, do you really want to go back home?” asked the mech.

    Pharma replied dejectedly, “I don’t have anywhere else to go…maybe a tree, but I can’t climb and I can’t fly. My wings are too small…”

    The mech chuckled at Pharma’s reply. He said to him, “You remind me a lot of myself. At least how I used to be, back when I was worth a damn. A word of advice; don’t ever grow up, or else you’d be as miserable and bitter…and unloved as me.” The mech handed Pharma the ball.

    The news ticker stated, “This…this is not what happened…”

    Chills ran through the viewers’ bodies. Rung was the most disturbed because the statement indicated that Pharma was conscious and had no control of this vision. Someone or something was interfering with his mind, and without a doubt still the work of the assailant who had attacked him. He wanted to say something but was worried that his commentary might influence Pharma’s “memory”. He was unsure if the others had made note of it to, since they were watching the video objectively. Analyzing every frame for clues.

    “I know I shouldn’t trust you, but what you say sounds real,” replied Pharma innocently.

    “Of course it’s real,” said the mech. “It’s more real than any form of love that you’d ever experience in your entire life from anyone.”

    Pharma looked at his ball and whispered, “But I thought Ratchet loved me…”

    The news ticker was blank.

    “I do,” mumbled Ratchet as he watched the screen. Rung narrowed his eyes, as he observed Ratchet.

    Suddenly, the mech laughed and moments later, he began to wheeze, sounding like he was dying.

    The news ticker stated, “…I figured…”

    “Is there anything I can do?” asked Pharma, as his voice quivered. He refused to believe it was true, and yet it made so much sense. “It seems everything is getting worse…like a badly-written space soap opera where the author was running out of ideas that they’ve now started re-hashing the same old things that were never good to begin with.”

    “As a matter of fact, there is one little thing,” replied the mech. “Give me your life. You will stay a sparkling forever and never grow up, thus avoiding further heartbreak and betrayal. As for myself, I will have the strength to murder my enemies…lengthways, of course.”

    The news ticker was blank.

    Pharma, who seemed to gather all his courage said to the mech, “Let me think about it.”

    “What’s there to think?” replied the mech coldly. “You have no future.”

    “Neither do you!” replied Pharma angrily.

    The mech nearly collapsed from Pharma’s insolence. Smugly, he said, “We’ll see about that…”

    Suddenly, there was a disconnect and the screen became staticky. The machine that was taking Pharma’s vitals was flashing aggressively and beeping loudly because Pharma suddenly flat-lined. Pharma was sitting upright on the bed, still connected to the monitor, while touching the back of his neck. His fingers glistened with his white blood which was cold to the touch.

    But something was wrong. Pharma turned to look at his right and saw Rung staring at him. Rung was pale and filled with terror. The room was completely still. With a forced smile, Pharma asked, “I’m going to prison, aren’t I?”

    “What? No!” replied Rung, with a hand over his chest. “You look gray…”

    Pharma got up and went to the nearby mirror, to check. Then, he heard Rung scream again. The only things Pharma saw was Rung almost having a spark-attack, and Ratchet with the others who all frozen in place. That was when Pharma remembered that he had no reflection. It was even the reason why he liked to be alone in the bathroom. That way, no one would notice its absence. Pharma sighed, “Maybe you should stop worrying about me, and worry about your crew-mates. They’ve all got things to live for.”

    “How are you _alive_?” asked Rung, as he also questioned his own sanity.

    “I’m not dead, so there’s that,” replied Pharma. Seeing the others frozen, made him feel oddly at ease. At least now, he could go on about his day unpunished. It felt like a weight was metaphorically lifted from his shoulders, and no longer interfering with the vents on his shoulder towers. Besides, Rung would never snitch on him, he was too useless.

    “But you have no reflection,” said Rung. “Old folklore says that a sign of undeath, but your reflection only shows how you looked like when you were last living.”

    “Well, I _did_ die a long time ago,” replied Pharma as he walked over to Ratchet. He looked at Ratchet in the eyes, but Ratchet was frozen like a statue that he didn’t reciprocate his gaze.

    It was then that Rung noticed Pharma’s reflection on Ratchet’s white plating. There was a young sparkling standing in Pharma’s place. He was too short to even reach the mirror and he barely reached Ratchet's waist.

    Still looking at Ratchet, Pharma said, “If he had met me then, perhaps he would’ve loved me…” Pharma’s colors became more saturated and he seemed to look normal again. Pharma shook his head, wiped his eyes with his left hand, and immediately began to scan Ratchet. Fortunately, none of Pharma’s medical upgrades were disabled. However, Ratchet’s reading came back as normal. Pharma tried again and then, scanned the others. They were normal too. He even scanned himself, whose status came back as normal too.

    “What’s going on?” asked Pharma to Rung.

    “Even the wall clock has stopped,” replied Rung, who was starting to get over his initial shock. “This is just a hunch, but in one of the ships I was on, a team of bandits put the ship and almost everyone on-board under artificial stasis. They had hoped that during this time, they’d steal valuable cargo but unfortunately for them, this artificial stasis didn’t work on me. My spark is so bright it gave me immunity and I was able to ring a silent alarm. The bandits were apprehended and everyone, including the precious cargo was safe.”

    “Then why am I immune too?” asked Pharma.

    Rung grabbed Pharma’s right hand, which was still covered in his own blood. “Your blood is Holy Energon. You are, without a doubt, a reincarnation of a great saint or even a Prime. Your blood makes you immune to evil influences. Which would also put you at risk of being attacked by very bad mechs, who would wish nothing more than to cause you harm and bring you misfortune.”

    “What do we do?” asked Pharma. Feeling comfortable around Rung, he added, “I’m scared.”

    “We must go to Rodimus,” said Rung, “He is a Prime and is also immune. Guided by the Matrix, he'd surely know what to do. From what Magnus told me, he should still be in bed because he likes to sleep in. We just need to get to the captain’s quarters.” Without warning, Rung leaped into Pharma’s arms. He smacked Pharma on the shoulder, causing Pharma to become desaturated. Surprised that it actually worked, Rung said, “With you ‘undead’ and me with these attention-deflecting goggles, we can safely go to Rodimus’ quarters undetected. I will show you the way, let’s go!”

     Motivated and caught up with Rung’s contagious optimism, Pharma hurried out of Rung’s office without the chance to tell Ratchet goodbye.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Quintesson Rebel Necropolis. Meandering Heights, Great River, Straxus.” I made this place up on the spot. It's not in the wiki or anywhere else, just here. "Quintesson Rebels" are ancient Cybertronians who tried to fight for their freedom from the Quintessons.
> 
> Back on the 2nd of September, I wrote a little bit of this, but then erased it because two days later I had an inspiration (motivated by stress from work in which I desperately needed to unwind) that was better than what I had written. Also, I finally focused on that _[Mary Sue](https://tfwiki.net/wiki/Mary_Sue)_ , Rung.
> 
> In all honestly, just because I switched the focus to Pharma and continued his “off-the-wall escapade”, this story should rightfully be considered _Ratchet and Pharma_. However, this portrayal is not intended to be a weird romance, like how it’s pitiably portrayed in canon. Here, I went with a [Prodigal Son](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Parable_of_the_Prodigal_Son) angle to it. This is similar to how the Ratchet and Drift relation tends to be seen as, except in this, Drift is the “good son”. Given that he’s happily raising his own two sparklings and overall having a strong and close relationship with Ratchet, it seems he is healthy and assumed to be improving with each passing day. (Compare that to his past of being a street urchin, delinquent, and Decepticon murderer.) Whereas Pharma is slowly becoming corrupt in such a strange way that even _he_ knows it would cause Ratchet to disown him. So while this set-up begs for some sort of redemption, would it really be worth it? It seems predictable and for that reason, I remain undecided. Let’s just see how this all works out, surprises are always good. :3c


	27. Reverberation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma and Rung reach the captain's quarters safely, where Rodimus informs them that they must gather a small team in order to defeat their enemy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who keeps giving me hits for this story? WHO?? **IS IT _YOU_???**

    Time was at a standstill, as the security cameras suddenly came online as the ship’s central computer awakened, but they saw nothing. They checked the psychiatrist’s office and noticed the patient was missing. The machine which read his vital signs was active and flashing its lights, signifying that the patient lost his pulse, possibly disconnected abruptly from the equipment. But the question remained, where did he go?

    Meanwhile, Pharma carried Rung until they reached the atrium. Since they didn’t want to rouse suspicion, Pharma transformed into a jet and Rung temporarily shifted size to sit in his cockpit. The elevators were stuck and flying in Pharma was the only way to get to the captain’s quarters quickly.

    Rung was piloting Pharma, at least guiding him in which direction he needed to turn to. Though that in itself was difficult. Pharma’s dashboard had some small screens which displayed his thoughts, similar to the cortical psychic patch. (Except it was in a low-quality 4k resolution, which is low for Cybertronians but adequate for humans.) All he was thinking about was about the encounter they had seen in Rung’s office. The reason Pharma lost his ball in the first place was because he had witnessed a brutal murder, caused by the same mech in the video who taunted Pharma with the lost ball. Then, everything became a haze and Pharma was grabbed by another stranger who threw him at a group of creepy mechs. One of them pulled out a glowing hook and attacked Pharma with it, pulling out something from Pharma’s throat. Another mech then used a laser and engraved something on it before they let him go. Pharma was scared, even reliving the memory was causing Pharma’s systems to overheat from the stress.

    One of the mechs said to Pharma, “Foolish sparkling…we don’t take kindly to intruders within our midst, so the first phrase you utter will be the phrase that binds the sparks of the departed to the realm of the living.”

    Pharma was so upset and confused that he cried, “I’m sorry!”

    Fortunately, for Pharma, they arrived at the captain’s quarters and Rung jumped out of the cockpit, as he quickly re-adjusted to his normal size. Rung then knocked on the door and said to Pharma, “I really think you and Ratchet should have a long talk with each other. I have the rest of the day off, we can talk then. Is that convenient for you?”

    It was then that Pharma realized that Rung had seen his thoughts. Filled with immense dread, he shook his head, mouthing, “No…”

    Roller heard the knocks, and being a drone for two Primes, he was immune to the artificial stasis. He beeped madly and pulled on the blankets on Rodimus’ bed. Annoyed that Rodimus was still in a deep sleep, Roller pulled out his pellet guns and fired at the glass of water on the nightstand, which fell on Rodimus, finally waking him up. Rodimus was about to get mad at Roller’s mischief when he heard Rung knocking and went to answer.

    Right away, Rodimus’ eyes brightened when he saw Pharma. With a smile he said, “Perfect…I mean, the Matrix is very excited to see you here. What’s up?” He motioned for both to come inside.

    “I suspect the ship and the rest of the crew are on artificial stasis,” replied Rung. “Since we’re unaffected, our internal clocks say it’s 8:45 am.”

    Incredulous, Rodimus pointed at the wall clock, “It’s barely 7:15 am.”

    “Check your internal clock,” said Rung.

    “What?!” cried Rodimus. Suddenly, he paused. “Oh no…the ship has been hacked by a virus, I think. Not sure, the Matrix is showing it to me vaguely. But this virus has taken control of the central computer, but that’s impossible unless someone’s been typing in lots of complex codes. We’re gonna need to assemble a team to stop this from getting worse. Fortunately, there’s 4 others who are unaffected; Brainstorm, Trailbreaker, Tailgate, and Cyclonus. A team of 8, yes Roller counts too, will be enough.”

    “They’re holy too?” asked Pharma.

    “No,” said Rodimus. “Trailbreaker’s force-field protected him. Brainstorm and Tailgate both suffer from chronal disassociation for completely different reasons. Apparently, Cyclonus has dark hidden Unic…k powers because he’s, you know, totally old. Only you and I are holy. And Rung is…well, he’s Rung. What more explanation do you need?”

    “Okay,” shrugged Pharma.

    Rodimus transformed and connected to his trailer, opening the side so Roller could get inside. Pharma transformed into a jet again and Rung got inside his cockpit. He rolled up next to Rodimus and both of them parked next to each other, tuning their frequencies until they could hear each other. Once they were set, they took off and left the captain's quarters. Concerned, Rung said to Rodimus, “You forgot to close the door.”

    Rodimus gasped, “You’re right, but don’t worry Roller can lock it from here for me.” Roller, who was inside Rodimus’ trailer, rolled towards a button and smacked it with his antenna, closing the door. “Thanks!”

    “Where are we going to go?” asked Pharma. Then he whispered at Rung, “Stop looking at my dahsboard.”

    “Turn it off, then,” replied Rung, who continued to study the footage.

    “But I don’t know how!” whispered Pharma, who became more anxious.

    He was fixated on the stranger and the revelation to him that they had the exact same childhood. The difference was that Pharma caused the destruction of his village but still lived with his parents afterwards, and the stranger was kidnapped by the cult. This stranger had revealed to him that he had almost immediately lost the will to live after the cultists had taken him in because they abused him. It unnerved Pharma that it was also around the same time in his young life that he realized he had no future because he was engraved with the necromantic sigil – _marked for death_. The moment this engraving were to be discovered, it would have been an immediate death sentence. Remembering what Rung had told him, that there were mechs who wanted to bring him misfortune simply for his blood which had always been white, Pharma’s heart yearned for retaliation. Especially since he was convinced that the stranger was mocking his pain by parodying his life in a sick, twisted way. Pharma was so upset that the screen finally went dark as it gradually turned off.

    Fortunately for Rung, he had seen enough and had finished recording it from his goggles. For Rung, this was overwhelming evidence of Pharma’s innocence…at least legally, since psychologically Pharma appeared to have lost it long ago. That was something else Rung decided that should be addressed at a later time.

    They stopped by Trailbreaker’s room, and Rodimus knocked on the door after transforming to robot-mode. Meanwhile, Trailbreaker was curled up in bed, hugging a pillow. The knocking woke him up and he went to go get the door. He walked by Grapple’s bed and saw that Grapple was still sleeping comfortably. Smiling, he kissed Grapple in the cheek and then kissed him on the belly because Grapple was carrying. After leaving the bedroom, he saw Hoist sitting at his desk revising a blueprint. Usually, Hoist would concentrate so strongly, that he’d tune-out just about any noise. Trailbreaker wasn’t mad that Hoist didn’t answer the door.

    Trailbreaker was surprised to see Rodimus at the door, accompanied by Rung, and the mysterious gaming jet. Seeing that they were in a hurry, he asked, “Good morning. Is there something wrong?”

    “Yes,” said Rodimus, “turn on your force-field and follow me.”

    Trailbreaker tried to activate his force-field, but could not. Realizing that Rodimus knew what he was asking, Trailbreaker closed the door and left with them. Since Rodimus was a speedster, he had no problems speaking calmly while jogging. “The ship’s main computer has been infected with a virus, which apparently caused almost everyone on-board to go under stasis. The three of us are immune to such effects, and you were protected by your force-field which ultimately got disabled. But don’t worry, we can fix it when we get to Brainstorm’s lab.”

    Unfortunately, the security cameras detected Trailbreaker because he neither holy nor Rung. The ship’s central computer re-rendered the frames and saw Pharma’s corpse jogging next to Trailbreaker. Alarmed, it activated the silent alarm and sent a few security drones after them. Rodimus suddenly stopped in his tracks and assumed a defensive stance. Since Pharma’s weapons were still deactivated, he ripped part of the wainscot panel off the wall and handed a smaller piece to Rung. Like Rodimus, Trailbreaker was armed with his own weapons.

    The droids approached them and began firing at them immediately.

    “Their aim is worse than ours, we got this, c’mon!” shouted Trailbreaker as he missed 5 times in a row, before finally landing a shot that decapitated a droid, disabling it.

    Meanwhile, Pharma and Rung, both wildly swung their panels, missing the droids. Angry, Rung swung as hard as he could but the panel flew out of his hand and broke a light bulb, making sparks go off which landed on the carpet, causing a small fire. Immediately, the sprinklers came on and the water disabled the droids. Pharma then swung his panel at a disabled droid, breaking the panel on the droid, and causing it no visible damage.

    Though Rodimus was upset that he didn’t even land a hit, the Matrix comforted him by pointing out the next time they encounter droids he could use his fire to activate the sprinklers. Rodimus turned to look at a nearby security camera and shot flames at it, melting it. Everyone then hurried out of the corridor before more reinforcements arrived.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, but I love _love love_ the idea that Transformers are such lousy shots and this is why the Great War lasted millions of years. I know this fight scene feels weirdly out of place in an M-Rated fic, but this story was initially T-rated and I only upped the rating because I wanted cursing and creepy in it.
> 
> As for Rodimus describing Cyclonus as having "dark hidden unique powers", Pharma has a strong hatred of Unicron cultists (since it was a particular sect who cursed him) that Rodimus didn't want to risk offending him. Especially, since Pharma seems to be quite good at adapting to whatever difficult situation he's in and making it out alive, at least.


	28. Friendships always die.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fate and destiny guide Brainstorm to join in the fight, this time, it's personal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brainstorm, back at it again with his nonsense. This chapter also contains what is easily the closest thing to porn you're ever gonna get in this story.

    Unlike the others, Brainstorm had noticed something was off due to a strange sensation he felt in his body. Due to his embarrassingly frequent time travel skips, Brainstorm had practically remained unaffected by any changes to the timeline. However, this sometimes caused him to spontaneously travel to the future or the past, which was annoying when he was working on an experiment. In fact, this was why his workshop (nicknamed “The Lab”) and Perceptor’s laboratory are two different places. Perceptor, like many others, thought Brainstorm was being playful, teleporting in the lab when in fact, he was going through an attack of the chronal disassociation.

    Suddenly, one of the speakers in the room turned on and a glitchy voice screeched at him. “I fucking found you! Prepare to die you piece of shit!”

    Upset, Brainstorm remained cool and replied, “You’ve got to be more specific. You can’t just go around looking for people and not tell them what they’re being accused of before shouting death threats at them.”

    “You have tampered with the timeline!” screeched the speaker. “It's because of you and this ship's _accursed_ quantum engines that I remain trapped here for an eternity…”

    Suddenly, the rest of the computers in the lab turned on.

    Brainstorm could hear the screechy voice’s smile from the speaker. After a brief pause, the voice screeched, “Tear that bitch apart!”

    Thinking fast, Brainstorm stopped time. He suspected his enemy was planning on remotely activating his own inventions and make them turn on him. Not wanting to lose his valuable work, Brainstorm went around removing batteries from his inventions. However, the shrieking voice sped up to where Brainstorm could hear it (albeit slowly) while time was stopped.

    “You cannot keep time at a standstill forever,” said the voice. “Sooner or later, you will have to face my minions and your death…”

    “Those minions aren’t even yours,” replied Brainstorm. “Besides, nothing can kill me. Like you, I bound my spark within an indestructible object long ago. The power I received from the act practically makes me a profane god. You cannot kill a god who will always respawn.” Brainstorm looked at his arms, which were momentarily burned to a crisp, before they were unsinged and back to normal.

    The voice itself went silent for a moment, before he said, “So _you_ were the one who stole _my_ obscene powers…and ultimately my identity. More reasons I have to kill you now…”

    “I stole nothing,” said Brainstorm. “You…or whoever was reincarnated as you, _willingly_ gave them up to _me_. He wanted to escape his curse and he now has, to an extent. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to escape.” Brainstorm let time continue for a couple of seconds, before teleporting away from the lab to an unknown location…or at least that's what Brainstorm wanted his enemy to think.

    Brainstorm appeared 10 minutes earlier inside Chromedome’s hab-suite, although he had no need to stop time, he did so anyway to avoid detection. It was a Wednesday, and Chromedome had the tendency to sleep-in on Wednesdays. However, Chromedome also had to be at Rung’s office to observe the video from the cortical psychic patch. If he didn’t find Chromedome, it was likely that he was already at Rung’s office and that was where Brainstorm planned to go to next. Fortunately, Chromedome was in his room – in a compromising position.

    Shaking his head that Chromedome was in mid-interface with his little conjunx Rewind, instead of participating in the investigation, Brainstorm had a change in plans. He originally wanted to see if he could undo the stasis on Chromedome, because both had promised each other to do their own investigating. But seeing that Chromedome had no interest in helping everyone for the greater good, Brainstorm decided to punish Chromedome, in a friendly way…

    “Head on!” shouted Brainstorm, as his head and Chromedome’s heads detached from their bodies, and swapped places. Since Chromedome was unconscious, Brainstorm’s body’s legs buckled, and he collapsed on the floor. Brainstorm, now with Chromedome’s body, carefully slipped out of bed and attempted to re-position Chromedome on the bed. He reached over and masturbated his body, so it would be ready for Rewind. Since the swap disabled his libido, Brainstorm was able to close Chromedome’s crotch-plate and headed out the door. The switch shuffled up his abilities and physiology, that he was no longer detectable. But before he had the chance to leave, he remembered that his briefcase was still attached to his body’s wrist. Brainstorm bent over and swapped hands. (Besides, he had more control over his natural hand and kept his briefcase like this.)

    Aware that the assailant was a chaotic Unicron cultist, Brainstorm decided to go to the captain's quarters. Logically, Rodimus would be able to be a formidable foe, since he’s holy due being a Matrixbearer. But at the same time, he remembered that Pharma was holy too (even if some people weren’t exactly happy about this). Fortunately, he didn’t need to go very far because he ran into Rodimus and the others. Trailbreaker was confused because he wasn’t expecting Chromedome.

    “Brainstorm,” said Rodimus, “we need to get to the central computer. Only you can–”

    Suddenly, more droids appeared and started firing at them. The group ran for cover because their weapons hadn’t recharged yet. Thinking fast Brainstorm jumped back towards the wall, and rolled across it using Chromedome’s large shoulder wheels. He pulled out Chromedome’s mini-blasters and shot at the droids. The droids chased after him. Rodimus and the others followed the droids and Brainstorm, and shot at the droids from behind. Meanwhile, Rung and Pharma just screamed at the droids, hoping to annoy and demoralize them. (This is ineffective, but so was not doing anything since they were both unarmed.)

    Meanwhile, Cyclonus was woken up from the ruckus he heard outside. Still feeling drowsy, he had no idea the ship was in stasis. He opened the door to scold the troublemakers, but saw Chromedome heading right towards him, pursued by the droids. Cyclonus grabbed Brainstorm by the collar and pulled him inside, quickly closing the door as the droids ran past them. When Cyclonus realized that Chromedome had Brainstorm's head, he heard more fighting outside. Frustrated with Autobot nonsense, he wasn't sure whether or not he should open the door. The last thing he wanted was to get involved in a pointless scuffle, but it had been so long since he was actually in a fight, that it was tempting. Sighing, Cyclonus pulled out his sword and went outside. However, he waited too long and the fight was over. The sprinklers were going off because Rodimus decided to finish the job with a fiery attack.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this didn't feel too rushed because I wanted to finish it up so I could doodle Tyrest.
> 
> Also, I'm disappointed with the IDW comics because there was never any fight scenes with Chromedome (or at least his body) rolling across the floor or wall, while shooting dramatically. But then, it's Chromedome and he's pathetic ~~and Prowl shouldn't have wasted his time chasing this lousy mech~~.


	29. And all of the King's men.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team prepares for the next course of action; figuring how to outsmart a haunted computer virus that was actually the soul of a mad necromancer from a previous timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, I can put in a real summary instead of having to beat around the bush. Yeah…this story wasn’t originally supposed to be like this at all, but then I was convinced that nobody was reading it, so I decided to do whatever. There were a few changes due to events happening in the comics and cartoons, but then this is my AU and this story is clearly not meant to please fans who swear by canon. It's got some Easter eggs but that's just to mess with y'all.

    Tailgate was filling 6 bowls, on a tray, with Captain Clutch cereal and pouring milk on it. After he was finished, he put a spoon in each bowl and took it out to the living room where the guests were seated.

    Rodimus didn’t like to eat his cereal with milk, but he didn’t want to make Tailgate feel bad because he worked quickly to make sure everyone had something to eat. Smiling, he said to Tailgate, “Thank you.”

    Rodimus whistled at his trailer, which seemed to materialize out of nowhere, and Roller rolled out of it. Rodimus sat Roller on his lap and fed him the cereal with his same spoon. Cyclonus saw that and his eyes widened. Cyclonus didn't understand the close bond between a mech and his drone. Both were so close that they were practically the same person, and it was totally acceptable for them to eat off the same plate with the same utensils.

    Meanwhile, Pharma took his bowl and wondered whether or not he should eat it. Like Rodimus, he didn’t like soggy cereal. (Mostly because it reminded him of the cardboard-like cereal he was forced to eat while at Delphi.) Pharma was still under the effects of the anesthetic and it was inadvisable for him to eat because his digestive tract was paralyzed. Since he was upset because everything was his fault somehow, he ate it anyway. If it made him sick, he felt probably deserved that too.

    Trailbreaker, on the other hand, loved cereal with milk. Remembering that he has a small plastic bag full of granola clusters, he took it out and sprinkled it in his cereal for extra crunch. He then offered the granola to the others. Brainstorm took some, as did Pharma and Rung.

    As Roller drank the sweetened milk from the bowl, Rodimus said, “Okay, so there was this lich whose spark was trapped inside a box and this guy was causing a lot of problems. So a long time ago…like maybe 15 solar cycles, a group of brave mechs got this box and stored it on board the Lost Light. Apparently, something about this ship’s experimental quantum engines prevented this lich from escaping. About 2 weeks ago, someone found the box and this lich tried to escape. It seems he’s the mysterious assailant that has attacked Skids, Red Alert, and Pharma, through the eyes. He’s been doing it with laser-engraved coding, which is a weakness for us living metallic organisms. Now he has infected the ship’s central computer. And he’s not done because he plans to kill again.”

    “If you knew about this, why was it allowed to continue?” asked Tailgate.

    Cyclonus nudged Tailgate and said, “He didn’t, and I’m sure the Matrix just told him right now.”

    “Yeah,” replied Rodimus, who checked on how Roller was doing. He was annoyed too, because 3 innocent people getting hurt was already too many, 1 was too much. However, Rodimus had faith that there was a reason that this information wasn't revealed to them sooner. 

    Brainstorm wondered how much Rodimus knew that he was unwilling to say. He realized the lich was Pharma, yet the medi-jet sitting in front of him that was adding instant coffee mix to his cereal, was also Pharma. And the Unicron cultist Brainstorm befriended when he time-traveled the first time, was also Pharma. Naive, Brainstorm let his emotions get the best of him when the friendly cultist told him that he wished he had never been a part of the cult. Brainstorm made sure that happened and thinking about it some more, Brainstorm absolutely felt no regrets. Especially since the current Pharma was the happiest and most loved Pharma.

    “What is our next plan of action?” asked Rung.

    “We go to the ship’s central computer,” replied Rodimus, who put Roller aside and took the bowl back to the kitchen. He rinsed it off and put it in the dishwasher. “Brainstorm will teleport us there.”

    “Us?” asked Cyclonus.

    “Yes, we need all the help we can get!” said Rodimus as he re-entered the living room.

    “But I’m scared,” said Tailgate, who then realized he would be alone if the others left and got even more scared.

    Rodimus walked up to Tailgate, bent over, and put his arm around his shoulder, “Look at the bright side, we’re trailer buddies. We can suit-up with our trailers and become even stronger.”

    Tailgate remained incredulous.

    Rodimus whistled at Roller who entered Rodimus’ trailer as the trailer headed right towards them. “Suit-up and shut up!” They watched the trailer split into leg armor and torso armor. When the transformation was complete, Rodimus was bigger and much stronger than before. (Especially since Roller also functioned as a micron, an additional power-up component which made Rodimus even more powerful.)

    Tailgate’s eyes widened and he screamed, “SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!” Tailgate’s trailer approached him and Tailgate combined with it. Now, he was about the same height as an average mech and no longer the shortest one on the team. (Rung was the shortest now.) It took a moment for him to get used to his increased power. It seemed that he now had additional ice powers.

    “Excuse me,” said Rung, “I think we’re forgetting something.”

    “What?” asked Rodimus, caught off-guard by the question because he was ready to roll out.

    “Pharma’s weapons are disabled and I think Trailbreaker’s force-field generator is disabled too,” replied Rung.

    “You’re right,” said Rodimus who walked up to Pharma and looked at the back of his head. Rodimus’ pinky retracted and he pulled out a small key from it and jammed it in a small groove in the back of Pharma’s head. Turning his pinky to the right, Rodimus activated Pharma’s weaponry.

    Pharma was surprised by it and asked, “Who told you that this is how it’s done? Only medics know this trick.” Pharma paused because he realized he knew the answer.

    “Ratchet,” said Rodimus, telling him the answer anyway. “You can check Trailbreaker’s force-field, I don’t know enough about that to help him.”

    Pharma handed Rodimus his empty bowl and walked over to Trailbreaker. Since Trailbreaker’s force-field generator was on his back, Pharma opened it and worked to repair the fried wires. He finished in under 30 seconds, while Trailbreaker didn’t feel a thing. Trailbreaker only knew the deed was done when he felt his force-field generator begin to recharge.

    Finally ready, all 7 of them held hands since Brainstorm’s teleportation only worked if they were all connected to one another. Rodimus and Pharma felt their sparks shine more brightly, as Brainstorm activated his time-machine, perhaps to give it an additional boost to help carry all of them to the central computer at once. Although the teleportation was instantaneous, it felt like they were together for several minutes and could also read each other’s thoughts.

    Right away, Rodimus said, “He knows we’re coming for him and he is ready. I suspect he has a dirty trick in store for us because he plays to win, even if he cheats.”

    “We should insult him too,” said Brainstorm. “That rustles his jimmies…”

    “What the fuck are ‘jimmies’?” asked Cyclonus.

    “Beats me,” shrugged Brainstorm, since he had heard that phrase in several Earth movies. He knew it meant something along the lines of “unsettling or upsetting”, which was exactly how their enemy should be treated.

    “Treat him, like you’d treat me…” said Pharma, “…if I were an obnoxious egotistical bastard who can’t let go of his shitty ex, so the obsessiveness ruins everything including my characterization. Just take him out of his misery in the most underwhelming yet heroic way, and call it a day. It's the only thing that should be done.”

    “That was oddly specific,” said Trailbreaker.

    “It has to be like that since we’re planning to take out an odd specific person,” replied Pharma.

    Rung and Tailgate shrugged since neither of them had been in combat, and had no experience on the subject. Tailgate wanted to say something but they were already at the central computer.

    “Darn!” mumbled Tailgate, since he missed his only chance to speak in telepathy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Captain Clutch" I actually didn't think the name for the cereal through, but it stuck. XD
> 
> "Suit-up and shut up!" comes from Overwatch promotions where it says "Suit Up" but I keep misreading it as "Shut Up" every single time. And it also sounds like something sassy that Rodimus would say.
> 
> Rodimus was raised by several people, (not just by his parents, Optimus and Elita). Ratchet, of course, was one of the main ones (besides Kup and Emirate Xaaron) since he was a mutual friend of the couple. Ratchet taught Rodimus (Hot Rod, at the time) this trick to save time, so he could focus on the assessment and consequent repair of the patients.
> 
> Unfortunately, Tailgate learned expletive language from Cyclonus. :(


	30. Truths that no one wants to hear.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final battle begins! Rodimus' team of disorganized heroes against the malevolent entity who values his looks over practicality. Just when things are looking better, they get worse. (Just like in real life...at least for me.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was listening to [this song](https://youtu.be/RkuHF2MiLxo) by Harold Faltermeyer while writing this chapter. I think it sets the mood.
> 
> (Honestly, I don't know who is more ill-prepared; the villain, the heroes, or me...)

    They appeared near the central computer, which was a massive cube situated high above them, suspended by several strong cables. Its presence was ominous, Cyclonus, Brainstorm, and Pharma immediately detected the presence of dark energon, which indicated Unicronian influence. There were several large screens surrounding the central computer and they turned on.

    “Prometheus!” shouted Pharma as he saw the doppelgänger’s staticky, blurred face on the big screen.

    “It’s _Polybius_ , you fuckwit!” replied the doppelgänger, who immediately realized that Pharma mispronounced his name on purpose, making _him_ the fuckwit.

    Rodimus gasped because he didn’t like to hear bad words but unfortunately, at this point, he didn’t have much of a choice.

    “So this is how it’s going to be?” Asked Polybius nonchantly, “A ragtag team of wannabe heroes who think they can defeat a powerful lich, who has managed to transcend his physical being becoming a computer virus, with the power of love?”

    “You tried and failed to kill me because I screwed up the timeline in such a way that you can’t respawn back into a new body,” replied Brainstorm.

    “Who the fuck even mentioned ‘love’?” asked Cyclonus. “Where did you get a stupid idea like _that_?”

    Seeing that they were clearly not the typical heroes, except for Rodimus and Trailbreaker, Polybius – or Prometheus said, “It seems all 8 of you somehow resisted the stasis and have no fear of impending death. How unfortunate because now I get to pick which one of you makes the perfect host. Don’t worry I’ll keep this fun. Let’s play a game…”

    “No!” shouted Rodimus.

    Ignoring him, Polybius continued, “…Whoever dies first, as in Health Points reach 0%, will be my new host. I’m aware this is a difficult and arduous task, but I’ve spent a good part of the morning calibrating these droids so they wouldn’t miss.”

    “You wasted your time!” shouted Rodimus, “We Cybertronians have bad aim, so there’s no way any of us can fix a droid to shoot better than us. Not even you because you never specialized in robotics.”

    “Necromancy is practically robotics, you ignorant child,” replied Polybius.

    “That’s what someone who failed in robotics would say,” said Trailbreaker. He paused and took a sip from his flask to calm his nerves. The statement itself annoyed him because his roommates also did some engineering which involved some basic knowledge of robotics.

    Fearing that Rung was about to deliver an epic roast, Polybius sealed off the exits and the big screens turned into timers. The automated voice-over said, “Initiating defense sequence and counting…10…9…8…”

    Trailbreaker prepared his force-fields, while the others armed themselves. Rung pulled out a cheap pen because everyone forgot to arm him and he didn’t seem to have much of a choice. Fortunately, Brainstorm pulled out one of Rewind’s spare pistols that Chromedome had kept in his subspace, and handed it to Rung.

    “…4…3…2…1…Showtime!” continued the voice-over, as armed droids came out of a couple of gates that quickly closed. Trailbreaker generated force-fields around his teammates as the screens appeared with their names and the percentage of HP remaining. So far, everyone was at 100% and from the looks of it, it was going to stay like that for a while. Just like the Matrix predicted via Rodimus, the droids continued to have terrible aim. This only made the fight last longer, which annoyed the doppelgänger. Trailbreaker powered up everyone’s force-fields to keep them safe.

    As brash and headstrong as Rodimus had a tendency to be, he was not a fool. Immediately, the first thought that came to mind was to incinerate the central computer, which would ultimately kill the virus. Except that the central computer also controlled the ship’s various generators and other vital equipment. So not only would he successfully kill their enemy, but he could also put the lives of everyone on board at risk, and that simply wasn’t worth it.

    The viral entity was no genius, and his choice to take control of the ship from its central computer was merely a lucky guess. He barely knew anything about robotics, much less computers. He got the inspiration when he had chosen Red Alert, chief of security, as his first host. Red Alert was always worried about the central computer, it was quite old and fragile. It was in need of replacement, or possibly complete reformatting. But Red Alert also worried about many things as well, being a speedster his heightened anxiety was a side-effect of his overly-accelerated system.

    Poybius took advantage of this by gently suggesting that Red Alert manually install new drivers to the central computer. However, these drivers were the ones Polybius needed to gain control of the ship. By the time Red Alert finished his task, Polybius had grown tired of him. Fortunately, he had gained control of Skids too and had no more need for Red Alert. With the control of the central computer, Polybius was able to use its cameras to take a good look at the crew, in order to find the best host. He even reviewed old footage and that’s where he saw Pharma, who was brought in to the medibay. Unfortunately, Pharma was kept in a room that had no security camera access and Pharma rarely left the room. Polybius had only managed to see him once, when he first arrived, and that was all that he needed. As destiny would have it, Pharma appeared in the bar and was immediately interested in the game. He managed to infiltrate Pharma and that is when he realized that the two of them weren’t so different.

    Polybius – the doppelgänger truly was predictable especially since he only wanted one host, Pharma, who was like just him (or at least how he remembered himself to be). To the doppelgänger, his body was unique because he couldn’t recall any other flyer with such magnificent broad shoulders and distinct ventilated shoulder towers. He missed them so much and longed to caress them once more. No one in his family, that he recalled, had that feature. He wondered, perhaps, if that was why he was shunned since birth.

    But it didn’t matter because they were all killed, ripped apart by mindless ghouls he reanimated. Unlike Pharma, he knew that those ghouls merely acted on his spark’s desires. The fact that the ghouls turned on his village, rather than the cultists was a clear indicator of who his real enemies where – the ones who made him live in constant terror. The ones who had always told him, from a young age, that if he misbehaved he was headed for the gallows. For this reason, the doppelganger didn’t miss his family and their prompt elimination relieved him. He also remembered how he poisoned half of his fellow cultists, just so he could turn them against the rest for the sake of irony. After dozens of brutal murders, he was finally stopped when his hands were removed. He was executed.

    But since his revelry in chaos caught the attention of Unicron, he was given a second-chance and returned as a god of death. Yet, the one detail he couldn’t remember was how he was finally stopped. He was killed and set to respawn, but his spark couldn’t reunite to the one he bound to his favorite arcade game. The Lost Light had warped and the connection was severed. He watched helplessly as his body was purified by the Primalists who had slain him. But something was wrong, the Primalists were horrified, and he couldn’t understand why. It didn’t matter because he felt his spark fade away from existence while trapped on board the Lost Light. That was when he realized the timeline was different and that he was reborn.

    Lost in thought, but mostly distracted by his own immense lust towards his own body, he didn’t notice that Rodimus’ team was winning. And no, it wasn't because of the power of love. It was because they were united by a common goal and were actively trying to work as a team. 

    Out of ammo, Rodimus reached into his subspace and pulled out a large war-hammer, with the words “Hammer of Justice” inscribed on the handle in gold-leaf. Rodimus was able to hit and decimate all of the targets with it, which only motivated him more.

    The truth was that this war-hammer was a gift to Ultra Magnus from his employer, the Chief Justice who had developed experimental gyroscoping technology which automatically calibrated each swing, increasing the user’s accuracy to around 84%. Magnus never used the war-hammer in combat because it was beautifully crafted and he assumed it was ceremonial. Little did he know that the Chief Justice wanted him to bash in violators’ skulls with it. Even though the droids themselves weren’t violators, at least the weapon was finally used for its intended purpose and that made the Matrix pulsate happily.

    Polybius finally realized how much Rodimus seemed to be excelling in combat, something he didn’t expect a cocky brat to be capable of. He focused the security cameras on Rodimus and noticed that it was the war-hammer’s doing. Polybius wanted nothing more than to kill whoever created and designed that godly construct. Naturally, he assumed it was Brainstorm (the ship’s genius) because it looked as if it was built by an overly intelligent jet. As a former jet himself, Polybius recognized quality when he saw it and was extremely jealous.

    Polybius was determined to win and like the Matrix had predicted, he had a dirty trick he was willing to use because he had grown impatient with the aimless fighting between the droids and the Lost Light’s unaffected crew.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The reason the villain, "the doppelgänger" was calling himself Polybius is because he could barely remember his original name other than the fact it starts with the letter "P". But also this is clearly a reference to [the urban legend of the same name](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Polybius_\(urban_legend\)), which was also the main source of inspiration for how the doppelgänger attacked, though I did mixed him with [Freddy Krueger](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Freddy_Krueger) too to an extent. (Though he tried to kill his victims by triggering them, so it could appear "self-inflicted".)
> 
> The Hammer of Justice, isn't a firearm and it doesn't shoot anything. Therefore, Tyrest making it a weapon that automatically steadies its user's swing, so it could more accurately hit targets doesn't contradict Rodimus' statement that Cybertronians naturally have bad aim, or that they cannot make droids better shooters. Rodimus talked about guns not hammers.


	31. Disillusionment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are risks and then, there are risks not worth taking. This is obviously not one of those times to take any sort of risks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was difficult because I kept getting writer's block over it. I'm still not good at writing action, but I've slowly been getting better. XD

    Unfortunately for Rung, Rewind’s pistol was empty…or at least Rung thought it was because he had no idea how to take it off safety-mode. Fortunately, Rung’s attention deflectors increased as he was on the verge of freaking out. Rung was able to hide behind some barrels, away from the fighting, and started to cry. All the years he spent studying psychiatry and all the horrible crimes he had observed, yet he couldn’t even talk himself into calming down. It wasn’t the fighting around him that upset him, it was the fact he was unable to help the others and was overburdened by his inherent uselessness.

    Meanwhile, Trailbreaker was busy generating force-fields around his other teammates that he also failed to notice Rung withdraw. He was actually more concerned about Rodimus wildly swinging the war-hammer and the war-hammer phasing through the force-fields because it wasn’t an enemy attack. Having to account for friendly-fire made his job harder, but since Rodimus and the others were doing so well, he took a deep-breath and tried to persevere. But it was becoming more difficult because his force-field generator was terribly fuel inefficient. He needed to refuel but couldn’t stop to pull his reserves out of his subspace because he used his hands to control the force-fields.

    Taking a gamble, Trailbreaker approached Tailgate. He got so close that the force-field bubbles combined into a larger, more powerful force-field.

    When they were finally next to each other, Trailbreaker said to Tailgate, “Can you please hand me my flask? It’s in my subspace. I need to refuel, or else I won’t be able to generate any more force-fields. I also need you to open it and feed it to me. Please.”

    Trailbreaker knelt down and allowed Tailgate to search for the flask. Tailgate pulled out two different flasks and asked, “Which one do you want?”

    Seeing both, Trailbreaker said, “Both. Give me whichever first.”

    Tailgate opened one and put it to Trailbreaker’s mouth. The fuel was so strong, that Tailgate nearly swooned because of it. Normally, this drink would intoxicate Trailbreaker too, but since he was actively using his force-field generator, he metabolized it quickly and was unaffected by its potency. Trailbreaker finished the first flask and Tailgate began to open the other one.

    It was then, that Polybius noticed. And for some reason, an intrinsic panic set in. Perhaps it reminded him of past defeats and now that he seemed close to winning, he wasn’t going to allow a waste-disposal unit aid in his defeat. It would be humiliating.

    Just then, Cyclonus tapped deep into his spark to summon his dark hidden Unicronian powers. Cyclonus felt that he didn’t have much of a choice because he was tired of the fighting going nowhere. He assumed that Polybius planned to win the match by exhausting them all and finishing them off in the end. Cyclonus wasn’t going to let that happen. Channeling his powers to his sword, he attacked several droids. Although he missed them all with his swing, his dark energy attack short-circuited them.

    Briefly, Polybius’ face appeared on the screen, his eyes bright like accursed aquamarines. Without warning Cyclonus’ force-field short-circuited simultanenously. Concerned, Trailbreaker tried to shield him, but the force-fields would not generate around him. Trailbreaker gasped in horror as did Tailgate.

    Polybius insincere giddy laughter echoed throughout the room. “Let’s raise the bar, shall we?”

    Without warning, Cyclonus attacked Trailbreaker but was deflected by the force-field. Brainstorm tried to shoot Cyclonus but unfortunately his shot landed right in the middle of Cyclonus’ hollow cheek and just went through the other side without harming him.

    It was then that Rodimus realized why the Matrix was hesitant about recruiting Cyclonus. He was Unicronian just like the doppelgänger, which meant that whether he wanted to or not, Cyclonus was the doppelgänger’s pawn to control. His reformatted body was a perfect host, yet the doppelgänger still wanted the cute shoulder tower vents because aesthetic was important to him.

    Meanwhile, Cyclonus was caught up in Polybius’ illusion. From what he had seen, Polybius had collapsed the tiles on the ground, which caused Cyclonus’ teammates to plummet to the ground, only leaving him behind because he transformed to his jet mode. The doppelgänger seemed to have decided that Cyclonus was somehow worthy of being his new host. Cyclonus was insulted because he refused to let anyone inside his body except Galvatron…perhaps Scourge and the Sweeps too, if they apologized. Seeing his defiance, Polybius then summoned his most advanced droids who were almost exact copies of his teammates. The objective, as he understood, was to eliminate them before they eliminated him.

    Cyclonus moved quickly to attack Trailbreaker. He transformed into a jet and shot at him. Taking a gamble, Pharma transformed into a jet and pursued Cyclonus. Brainstorm’s jaw dropped that his mask fell off. No one expected Pharma, someone with hardly any combat experience of his own to chase after Cyclonus. Unfortunately, the dogfight was out of range for Trailbreaker to shield Pharma with his force-field. Both of the jets kept flying in circles and Pharma was shooting aimlessly at Cyclonus. The aim was so terrible that it further convinced Cyclonus that Pharma was a droid because it was so pitiful.

    The doppelgänger panicked since the jets were flying around the central computer’s cables. Any damage to the central computer, and he would lose his last connection to the world of the living and cease to exist. It seemed like Pharma may have figured it out, because at times Pharma did suicide dives towards the central computer as if he wanted to crash into it but changed his mind at the last minute. But then, that was something he would do as well, to frag the psyche of his enemies.

    Figuring out that Pharma was flying in a complicated pattern, Cyclonus decided to shoot at Pharma at his predicted trajectory. Pharma’s right vent was hit. He spiraled downwards, only to bump against the walls and leave behind a bloody imprint, which activated a gigantic rune he had engraved all over the walls with his shooting.

    “Wow!” cried Tailgate, as he saw the rune begin to glow as it activated. However, his excitement was short-lived because the rune emitted a loud, deafening screech that hurt everyone’s ears.

    If it wasn’t for the fact that Brainstorm was shielded by the force-field, the screech would’ve damaged his health and dropped it down to 39%. Instead, his dropped to 62%. The others also took hits because the attack hurt everyone except Pharma who was dead inside. Polybius was so disoriented by the attack that he temporarily lost control of Cyclonus.

    Unfortunately, Cyclonus was so enraged by Pharma's attack, which damaged his sensitive ears that he attacked him anyway. Pharma's face went pale, because he had hoped the screech would free Cyclonus but he was coming at him with his sword drawn. As Pharma moved to grab a pipe to deflect Cyclonus' attacks, Cyclonus swung his sword and cut off both of Pharma's hands. He swung again and impaled Pharma right at the cockpit. With a swift kick, Cyclonus knocked Pharma over ledge, removing him from his sword in the process. Since the attack also damaged his t-cog Pharma couldn’t fly to safety and fell down, with his health lowered to 21% upon hitting the ground. Since Pharma was a flyer, he was able to survive the fall. At this point, Pharma was unsure he’d survive, he was bleeding profusely from his abdomen and both wrists.

    The view from below the precipice, was a stark contrast to the clean and sterile arena above. It was dark, damp, and rusted. Pharma was fortunate to have landed on a dry surface, otherwise the wet areas would’ve short-circuited his exposed wiring. Sighing, Pharma whispered, “Oh Ratchet…could never be the good son you wanted. Does it even matter if you could hear me? But. I’m sorry…” He closed his eyes and powered down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You'd think that if Pharma was able to draw all over the walls with precision, he could've easily have shot down Cyclonus mid-flight. But, like Ratchet has said before about himself and Pharma in [Chapter 20](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11402775/chapters/33231762), "We are medics – it is our duty to heal, not harm." Pharma's intent was to disable him, but also knowing that he would need to be injured in order to activate the rune.
> 
> Brainstorm is a bat-like Transformer. His hearing is important to him, hence why he would've gotten seriously injured had it not been for the force-field. Cyclonus is a demonic rabbit Transformer, but a rabbit regardless. He was as almost as equally as affected to it as Brainstorm.


	32. Like the Legend of the Phoenix

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While the fighting continues, Decepticon Tyrest Enforcers board the Lost Light. The doppelgänger then learns a valuable lesson; that he cannot escape his inevitable fate, something that must happen to him in every timeline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Appropriate song for this chapter, [“Get Lucky” by Daft Punk feat. Pharrell Williams, Nile Rogers](https://youtu.be/5NV6Rdv1a3I). ~~Any Daft Punk is appropriate music for Pharma.~~

    Unbeknownst to the Lost Light crew and the doppelgänger, Ultra Magnus had an implant in one of his wrists that emitted a silent alarm if he was incapacitated in any way. Normally, Magnus would’ve shut off the alarm if it was something he could handle. However, he was frozen still and couldn’t do anything. The alarm was detected by a nearby Tyrest Enforcer, who warped to the scene with his ship.

    The Lost Light was much larger than his ship. Regardless, the enforcer docked his ship underneath the Lost Light’s left wing. Opening a portal, the enforcer and his crew stepped into the Lost Light. Right away, they noticed something strange. The ship was eerily quiet and dark. The enforcer got out his com-link. He knew it must be done, but he already had a rather icy relationship with the Duly Appointed Enforcer, and was uncomfortable with calling him. (The enforcer and his crew were Decepticons and Magnus was a very outspoken supporter of the Autobots.) He dialed Magnus’ number but it went straight to voicemail because he didn’t respond.

    One of the deputies, a triple-changer, took the phone and attempted to pin-point Magnus’ coordinates. After successfully locating him, they activated another portal and appeared in Rung’s office. There, they saw Ultra Magnus standing next to an equally large tank-fairy who appeared to be his deputy-in-training. The enforcer approached Magnus and touched his wrist, disabling the alarm.

    Another deputy noticed the cortical psychic patch and growled, “These Autobots are ripping-off Decepticon tech!”

    The enforcer turned to look at the still staticky screen and then at the bed where the patient was meant to be lying. He noticed there was a dried whitish stain on the pillow and had more questions that he didn’t even want to think about. However, his guts told him that the patient was to blame and perhaps he had caused the ship to go into stasis, so he could escape.

    “This is a big ass ship,” said the enforcer to his crew. “We need to teleport to the central computer for a diagnostic check-up. It’s the only way to get to the bottom of this. But first, we need to figure out where it is.”

    “Boss, check this out!” said a deputy as he pointed at Rung’s magnificent model ship collection. He specifically singled-out the model of the Lost Light, and carefully took it out of the shelf.

    The model itself was an accurately scaled one. From the looks of it, it was modeled faithfully after the ship. Another deputy scanned it and they located the central computer. Satisfied, the enforcer ordered his deputy to return the model ship back to its shelf.

    They decided to teleport to the ship’s central computer. However, they stumbled upon the fight. Cyclonus and the remaining droids attacking the remaining members of the Lost Light crew. Though they were up for a fight, they noticed several things climbing up the precipice. Since the Decepticons weren’t being attacked, they lowered their visors to get a better look. As soon as they realized what the things were, they immediately activated their portal and went back to Rung’s office. (Unnoticed by the doppelgänger and the Lost Light’s crew.)

    Meanwhile, Rodimus and the others continued to fight the droids, while Polybius had regained control of Cyclonus. Their respective health was at around 60% - 70%, Tailgate had fled and hid behind some barrels. He was shaken and horrified after seeing Cyclonus attack Pharma. As he crouched there, frozen in fear, he felt something suddenly grab his leg. Tailgate screamed when he saw a rusted mech holding onto him. Other rusted mechs had climbed into the arena from the precipice. Although the undead rusted mechs were clearly fighting against the droids, Tailgate was so freaked out that he grabbed a nearby trashcan lid and started trying to hit the rusted mech with it. But he was so weak, the rusted mech didn’t even flinch. Angry, Tailgate used all of his strength and swung at the rusted mech, except he forgot that his grip was weak too that the trashcan lid went flying.

    Polybius laughed and said, “What kind of a Prime has a necromancer, a Unicron-cultist, on his team?”

    “One that could kick your aft!” shouted Rodimus as he whacked several droids with Magnus’ warhammer.

    Seeing that Rodimus was distracted, and had left himself wide-open, Cyclonus ran at Rodimus with his great sword and jumped to deliver a fatal blow. Without warning, a trashcan lid hit Cyclonus on the fingers. Not only did it make Cyclonus drop his sword, but also knocked him off balance that he hit a nearby wall, bounced off of it and got impaled near the spark by his own blade. Shocked with what had occurred, Cyclonus offlined. Rodimus didn’t even notice what had happened. Rung did and was shook.

    Meanwhile, Pharma was unable to stay powered down. Especially, since he was surrounded by undead rusted mechs who had presumably fell to their deaths solar cycles ago. Realizing that he uttered those accursed words – “I’m sorry”, Pharma was filled with immense dread. Now everyone knew he was one of those necromancers, the most wicked ones, called the Death Whisperers. He could feel his throat get hot as the sigil on his vocalizer was activated. Even if he was rescued, he would be immediately executed afterwards. Pharma also remembered Polybius’ rules, whoever died first would get instantly reformatted and at that point, this discovery was going to be Polybius’ problem.

    Using his last ounces of strength, Pharma flipped the mini-blasters on his shoulder vents and bent them with his forearms so they’d be aiming at his head. Since he was weak and at 12% health, he couldn’t bend them quickly and it made the ordeal more excruciating. But knowing that he would die a failure was more painful, although it paled in comparison to the heartbreak he was experiencing – that his beloved Ratchet, the one he considered his parent, didn’t love him back. Overcome with emotion, he shot himself in the head to immediately end his misery.

    An airhorn blew announcing that one of the competitors had reached 0% and it was Pharma. At that, all of the rusted mechs collapsed on the ground and the cannon fired, shooting Polybius’ spark fragment at Pharma’s disembodied spark that was propelling itself to the All-Spark. The moment both sparks collided with each other, the spark glowed brighter and it fell back down to the precipice where Pharma’s body remained.

    Polybius said to Pharma, “I trusted that you’d make the right choice. After all, we are the same person even if time has kept us apart and incomplete. And once the reformatting is complete, there will be no witnesses left to retell this occurrence.”

    “Why would you trust someone like me?” asked Pharma smugly, as soon as the spark re-entered the spark chamber and was sealed in tight. Since the spark had flown out of his body in such a traumatic way, it was filled with his holy blood too.

    Realizing that Pharma was a complete and utter bastard just like he was, Polybius shrieked as his vile essence dissolved into nothing. He spent his last, but brief moments, feeling like an idiot for not realizing that the only reason the cultists would've singled him out was for his holy energon. But then again, he had been contaminated with so much dark energon that it made his blood appear lilac, almost like a normal pink but duller. It had been like this for all his life that he could've never imagined that it was once holy. When he was no more, Pharma’s body began to reformat itself as soon as Polybius’ spark fragment was fully absorbed into Pharma’s spark, raising his HP percentage from 0% to 69%.

    Seeing the score, Trailbreaker and Brainstorm simultaneously said, “Nice…”

    Once the reformatting was completed, Pharma transformed, and flew back up to the surface. However, something was different about him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I finished this chapter on my mom's birthday! >:3 
> 
> She obviously doesn't read my stories, much less browse the internet, but at least this was posted on a significant day...at least for me.
> 
> ~~I'm not going to lie, I wanted Cyclonus to experience the most humiliating defeat imaginable...for Star Saber!~~


	33. Freedom at a Cost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pharma is reformatted and becomes the Jojo he was meant to be all along, bringing this story to its end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is like the most predictable chapter, at least if you have read MTMTE and the Lost Light comics. Still, this chapter cannot fully be appreciated without listening to [this song](https://youtu.be/XUhVCoTsBaM) and knowing its reference.

    Pharma stood menacingly in front of everyone, as the air around him stood still. Trailbreaker noticed that Pharma’s silver Autobot badge was replaced. It was a strange circular symbol that he had seen before, but couldn’t recall where he has seen it. (This new badge was still silver.) Tailgate couldn’t take his eyes off of Pharma either, since he noticed that Pharma’s hands were still missing. (Yet his forearms were no longer bleeding.) Pharma slowly raised his arms and struck an impossible pose. As he did, he channeled powerful scalding energy. Pharma then struck another pose and the sound of two loud clangs was heard. Brainstorm looked up at the central computer and noticed both of Pharma’s dismembered hands gripping the central computer, denting it from the force.

    His body glowed brightly, as if enveloped in a shell of light. He spoke in a strange primordial tongue which everyone understood, “Cleanse and control…”

    A strange rune with an ancient symbol appeared beneath his feet. Observant, Rung noticed that the rune on the floor matched the symbol on Pharma’s chest which now replaced his Autobot badge. But Rung wasn’t able to get a good look at it because then Pharma began to glow to the point that he was too bright to be looked at directly. The light was so bright that it seemed to penetrate every nearby surface, burning them – purging them of impurities.

    Rodimus almost succumbed to its bleaching force, but the Matrix protected him. All around him was an unnatural starch white, it was so strong that Rodimus flipped on his visor in order to see. He saw Pharma there, but he looked different. His plating was various shades of denim blue and his face was olive-colored. Pharma noticed Rodimus but his gaze was different. He wasn’t Pharma – nor Polybius.

    “Your excellency…” said Pharma as he spoke in the Primordial Tongue.

    Flattered, Rodimus replied, “It’s great to have you back, Sir.”

    “I know…” replied Pharma, “…but I don’t have time to chat. I must right the wrongs that my reincarnations were forced to commit.” He grabbed a hold of both Trailbreaker and Tailgate, who became visible as soon as he touched them with hands made of energy. Their mouths opened and smoke started bellowing out from their mouths. “…And repair other things on the side, as a bonus.”

    Pharma did the same to Rung and Brainstorm, though Brainstorm looked like he almost crumbled to dust but was immediately restored. After letting them go, Pharma approached Cyclonus. Realizing that the attack was intentional, Pharma picked up Cyclonus who violently recoiled as his whole body smoked. Pharma suddenly let him go and murmured to himself, “I have other phrases I can use to reanimate the dead.”

    With a smirk, he asked, “Why sleep on the ground, if you can sleep with me?”

    Rodimus went pale because that was likely the phrase Polybius had used and it disgusted him. Pharma fell to his knees as the bright light faded away. Pharma was prostrated on the ground with his forearms bent upwards.

    Rung was the first to stand up and approached Rodimus. Trying to figure out what to say, because he noticed the same symbol on Pharma’s badge was now a large rune drawn on the ground.

    Brainstorm and Trailbreaker rushed over to Cyclonus to see if he was alright, and obviously he wasn’t. Tailgate got up and rushed to them, to see how his friend was doing. Remembering a bit of what he picked up in the medibay, Tailgate tried to access Cyclonus and his condition was not good.

    As Tailgate assessed Cyclonus, he heard a nearby groan and saw a familiar but unrecognizable mech. There were other mechs too, they seemed dizzy, and had no idea where they were.

    Trailbreaker gasped and said, “Those…those are the zombies that were fighting alongside us.”

    “Rodimus…Holy Matrix…,” began Rung, finally able to find the words he was looking for. “Who is Pharma a reincarnation of?”

    “Adaptus,” replied Rodimus, “As in, one of the gods that make up the Guiding Hand. He is a cunning one, always figuring out new ways to adapt to whatever situation he’s thrown in. I think he’s trying to reformat the ship because Polybius infected the central computer and that affects almost everything. But he struggles because Pharma’s body is too weak and can’t contain his raw alpha divine powers.”

    Meanwhile, it wasn’t just the central computer room where it became white, but everywhere else in the ship. However, it was a literal flash that burned everyone it touched but also unfroze them. Because this was so quick, Ultra Magnus, Fort Max, and Ratchet had the scare of their lives when they saw a group of fearsome and intimidating Decepticons in Rung’s office helping themselves to the coffee.

    “Sheet…!” said one of the Decepticons when he saw Magnus staring at them.

    “Lockdown…” growled Magnus.

    “Look, your alarm went off and we came here to investigate,” replied Lockdown, the Decepticon Tyrest Enforcer nonchalantly. “Every single one of you bots was frozen in place. Then we decided to open a portal to this ships central computer. There, we saw your conjunx, a trash bot, a thicc boi, and a tall twink with no aft, battling these droids. We were going to help but we saw a bunch of zombies crawling up to the platform, so we decided to perform a tactical retreat…”

    Magnus grabbed Lockdown by the throat and said, “You just left my conjunx there?! With those zombies?!!”

    “He…appeared to be winning…” replied Lockdown.

    While they spoke, Ratchet immediately noticed that Pharma was missing. The first thing that came out of his mouth was, “Where is my son?!”

    As Ratchet desperately looked around in Rung’s office. Magnus took Lockdown’s teleporter and let him go, he and opened a portal and headed to the central computer to investigate. Lockdown followed him because he didn’t want Magnus to complain to the chief justice that he did nothing. Ratchet also decided to follow them, even though he was on the other side of the office. Even though he hurried, he didn’t go through the portal on time to teleport to the central computer. He turned to look at the Decepticons, who only had one teleporter on them and it was the one that Magnus had taken. Ratchet then hurried out of the office, transforming into an ambulance and blaring his sirens as he rushed to the central computer.

    Nervous, Fort Max asked a deputy, “So you guys work for the Tyrest Accord too?”

    “Fuck yeah…” replied the deputy. “I know people who’d kill to land a gig like ours and that’s exactly the type of attitude the chief justice endorses.”

    “No he doesn’t,” said another deputy coolly. “He only wants us to kill violators in the name of justice.”

    Magnus suddenly appeared at the central computer. He saw the others tending to the newly reanimated and perfectly resorted dead, while Cyclonus and Pharma both remained unconscious on the ground. Rodimus was the first to notice Magnus and ran to him, jumping up into his arms, giving him a big hug. Rodimus squealed excitedly, “Maggie!”

    “I’ve been told you were fighting zombies,” said Magnus who tried to remain calm.

    “No,” said Rodimus, “the zombies were on our side, we were all trying to fight the assailant who attacked Skids, Pharma, and Red Alert.”

    “Arrest me,” said Pharma, who had walked up to them. “It’s all my fault. I fucked everything up.”

    “Okay,” replied Lockdown, who took back the teleporter from Magnus and opened a portal back to his ship. Since Pharma’s current power-levels were off the charts, Lockdown ordered Pharma to go into a stasis pod. He too was afraid of what Pharma could do, but at the same time he decided to leave the punishment up to the chief justice. The stasis pod, as far as he was concerned, kept everyone safe.

    Lockdown opened another portal into Rung’s office, for his deputies to come to the scene. There, Lockdown and Magnus ordered the deputies to take the newly reanimated people back to the ship, since Lockdown was going to warp back to Luna-1 with everyone. Lockdown and his deputies left without saying goodbye. (But it was mostly because they could tell Magnus was pissed and were too afraid to experience his wrath.)

    Just then, Ratchet finally arrived. He was exhausted because the journey was long, and saw Rung. Rung realized what Ratchet wanted but it was too late, Pharma had already gone with Lockdown. Ratchet also noticed Cyclonus and immediately went to treat his wounds. (From the looks of it, he was going to be hospitalized for several weeks, but at least Tailgate would be there at the medibay to keep him company.) As soon as he finished stabilizing Cyclonus, Ratchet’s com-link went off. He answered it, the call was from Ambulon.

    “Ratchet, you’re not going to believe this…” said Ambulon. “…Quark is awake. He is moving and trying to mumble. Hold on…” Ambulon hung up because Quark was trying to get up but from being comatose for so long, he was a fall risk.

    Overwhelmed, Ratchet blurted out, “Where is Pharma?”

    “He left with Lockdown,” said Trailbreaker, as Tailgate and Rung tried to motion him to stop.

    Ratchet let out a quiet gasp.

    Rodimus frowned. From what Matrix let him understand, Pharma had already made up his mind to leave as soon as Adaptus had detected the Decepticons. In fact, both Pharma and Adaptus had agreed to go since it was for the best. Especially, because Adaptus’ and the Matrix’s intuition said Pharma was desperately needed on Luna-1. However, Pharma wanted to go without telling Ratchet goodbye. He felt that Ratchet would’ve preferred it that way but it obviously wasn’t the case. Ratchet was heartbroken but numbed from the shock. He had lost Pharma for a second time but it seemed unlikely, at the moment, that he’d ever see his wayward son again. Sympathizing strongly because Rodimus had experienced similar losses, he rushed over to Ratchet and hugged him.

    As for Pharma, he was deep into stasis while he was being transported by the Decepticon enforcers. He was numbed from the strong emotions and near death, that stasis was probably for the best. Since it kept him calm and in a trance-like state. Still, it gave him time to think. And he realized then that perhaps liberation from his punishing curse wasn’t so beautiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please imagine [Metroid Prime's Menu Title Theme](https://youtu.be/YfGsArRQjKE) song as the end theme for this series, thank you.
> 
> * * *
> 
> I had promised myself that I was going to finish this particular story before September ended and guess what? I just did.
> 
> I'm aware that this story has a rather unsatisfying end. That it's not completely over and this is true. It actually branches off into two different stories from this point.
> 
>   * **The logical one** , is what the Lost Light crew does afterwards and how Ratchet is trying to cope with Pharma leaving and Drift obviously being very bitter about this because no one should break Ratchet’s heart.  
> 
>   * **The other one** , is Pharma on Luna-1 before the Lost Light crew eventually arrives there. Obviously from what you may have read in my author’s notes and possibly from my profile, this is the route I will be focusing on. I've posted this story it's called “[Court of the Forsaken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16172519/chapters/37788500)”.  
> 
> 


**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading my random story. Please comment, if you want. I'm always curious of readers' opinions of my work. Mostly because feedback helps me prioritize what to write and better organize my thoughts. (I have too many ideas. X_x;; )


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